


Come On And Make Me Feel Alright Again (Cause It's 3am)

by orphan_account



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Manon is their resident, Skip to chapter nineteen if you want smut but it will ruin the whole plot for you, aelin lysandra and aedion are interns, but not the fastest either, fenrys is a bartender, hospital au, not the slowest, rowan is an attending, slow ish burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:27:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 50,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23909947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Aelin Galathynius is a surgical intern with a penchant for tequila and bad decisions. Rowan Whitethorn is a Cardiothoracic surgical attending with a reputation for making interns cry. But no one makes Aelin Galathynuis cry thank you very much.(it's basically a grey's anatomy AU folks)title from 3AM by Halsey.
Relationships: Aelin Ashryver Galathynius | Celaena Sardothien/Rowan Whitethorn
Comments: 542
Kudos: 379





	1. Darling (I've Just Left The Bar)

It was summer and Aelin was swimming in tequila. Or, more accurately, it was 1:30am, Aelin was drunk, and it was actually September. She raised her index finger at the bartender.

“Another shot of tequila please.”

The bartender, a young guy around her age with golden brown eyes and a jawline that she could picture herself licking, poured her another.

“Rough day?” he asked sympathetically.

“Nope,” Aelin replied. “I’m celebrating.”

She swallowed the tequila in one gulp, too far gone to bother with the salt.

“Yippee.” She smiled sarcastically, chasing the taste from her mouth with a wedge of lime.

The man leaned on the bar. Aelin was one of the few people still drinking, but she thought vaguely that he must have something better to do.

“What are you celebrating, then?”

Aelin sighed and tapped her perfectly manicured fingernails on the bar. With short, clean nails and perfectly dexterous, hers were the hands of a surgeon. Or a surgical intern, at least.

“It’s my first day at work tomorrow."

“Congratulations.” He smiled “I get off work in 5, can I buy you a drink when I finish?”

Aelin glanced at the clock. She had work in six and half hours. She wasn’t going to be able to sleep anyway, and the bartender was hot.

“Yeah, sure. I’m Aelin, by the way.” She stuck out a hand for him to shake.

“Fenrys.”

Fenrys drank tequila with as much enthusiasm as Aelin, which she could appreciate. It was rare to find someone who could drink her under the table, or even sit at the table with her. Her initial plan had been to take him home and have her wicked way with him. As the evening went on, however, and he began more and more to remind her of her cousin Aedion and the boys she had grown up with, the plan changed.

“So,” Aelin began, with a slight slur (She had been slamming tequila for an entire evening, give her a break.) “I don’t think that we should have sex.”

Fenrys, to his credit, didn’t even blink.

“Agreed,” he said politely. “No chemistry, am I right?”

“I’m not gonna lie to you, I think we could be really good friends, and I just think that us having sex might hinder that.”

Fenrys threw a muscled arm around her shoulders and grinned at her.

“Aelin, I think that this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship. Someone who likes tequila as much as I do AND works at the hospital across the street so therefore can come drink tequila with me all the time. It would be a godsdamn waste to ruin that with sex.”

They clinked their glasses together in celebration.

“Now come on,” Fenrys pulled her to her feet, “I’m gonna kick your ass at darts.”

So here she was: her alarm was blaring, she wasn’t in her own bed, and her head was pounding. She groaned, throwing an arm out to grab her phone and stop that incessant beeping. Silently she cursed herself for being quite literally the stupidest person alive. Who the hell goes out and gets wasted the night before their first day at work?

“What time is it?” a voice mumbled into the pillows beside her.

“Go back to sleep, Fenrys.” She sighed and slid out of the bed with as little disruption as she could manage.

They hadn’t slept together, just stumbled home together at gods knew what hour, and passed out side by side. Now all she had to do was get an Uber home, shower, get changed, and get to work. All with a killer hangover and about 2 hours of sleep.

This was totally fine.

She grabbed her shoes from the floor next to the bed and tip toed out of the room, gently shutting the door behind her.

“Good morning,” an amused voice piped up from behind her.

Aelin wasn’t exactly a jumpy person, but with the post-drinking anxiety running through her, she was ashamed to admit she may have screamed a little.

She whirled around to see who had decided to torture her on this already difficult morning. Standing before her was, for lack of a better word, a god. The man who stood before her, smirking, was in actual fact the most beautiful man she’d ever seen in her life. He was tall, with hair that looked grey in the dim light of the hallway, green eyes, and broad shoulders. She’d never really bothered with having a “type”, but if someone had entered all of the little things she was attracted to into a machine and a man had popped out... it would be the man in front of her.

And to top it all off, he was clad only in a towel wrapped around his hips. She watched as a droplet of water dripped from his collarbone all the way down his muscled chest. He coughed and she dragged her eyes back up to his face.

“Can I help you?” she asked with a quirk of her eyebrow.

The man scoffed in disbelief. “You’re the one staring at me. In my apartment.”

Aelin tossed her golden blonde hair over her shoulder. “I was not staring.”

“You were staring, Which is pretty bad form if you ask me, considering you’re currently sneaking out of my housemate’s bedroom,” he snarked, his pretty face now settled into a look of judgement.

And just like that, Aelin decided she hated him. Who was he to judge her for sleeping with Fenrys? Not that she even had. But she was a grown woman, and if she wanted to sleep with a man she met in a bar it was her godsdamned prerogative to do so.

She painted a look of boredom on her face.

“I wasn’t staring, I was actually wondering why the hell you were in my way.”

“Again, you’re the one in my apartment,” he said, but stepped aside so she could leave.

She huffed and walked past him in the most dismissive way she could manage, all things considered.

“Nice meeting you. I would say see you again sometime, but that’s not usually Fenrys’ style,” he called out after her as she stomped down the stairs.

“Go to hell,” she called back. “And by the way, there’s not even that much to stare at.”

It was a lie and they both knew it, but Aelin didn’t care.

She seethed all the way back to her house, and seethed some more as she showered and got changed. By the time she was ready to leave and went into the kitchen, she’d worked herself up into such a frenzy that she almost broke the mug of coffee her roommate Lysandra handed her.

“Good morning to you too,” Lysandra smiled as Aelin stomped into the kitchen.

She grunted in return, swallowing a handful of painkillers and wolfing down a slice of leftover pizza from the fridge.

“So someone had a good night, clearly.” Lysandra chuckled. “I cannot believe you stayed out all night.”

“Then clearly you don’t know me very well.” Aelin smiled, beginning to relax as the coffee and the food settled in her stomach.

“Aedion agreed to pick us up and he will kill you if you’re not ready to leave. Please tell me you’re ready to leave.”

Aelin grabbed another slice of pizza for the road and nodded.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Let’s go kick some ass then.”

“I think we’re meant to be helping people who have had their asses kicked, Lys. Not doing the ass kicking.”

Lysandra grabbed her hand and squeezed, and Aelin had the sudden urge to cry. They’d all worked so hard to make it to this point. They were going to be doctors, and it all started today. Aelin, Aedion, and Lysandra against the world, just as it should be. None of the other stuff mattered when despite all odds, they had made it. She pulled Lysandra into a hug.

“Let’s go kick some ass.”


	2. One More Cup Of Coffee (For The Road)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So basically, I am not a doctor, all of my medical knowledge comes from medical shows, so please don't yell at me if any of the terminology is wrong aha. Comments make me write faster and I love you all for reading <3

Mercy West Hospital had somehow grown in the three weeks since Aelin had last been there, she was sure of it. There was no way it had been this large and intimidating when she’d visited before. Standing in front of the sliding doors, looking up at the glass exterior of her home for the next three years, she was terrified. Not that she’d ever admit it. She rolled back her shoulders and lifted her chin. If six years of ballet had taught her nothing else, it was good posture.

“Come on then.” She tilted her head towards the doors and grabbed Lysandra and Aedion’s hands. “Let’s do this shit.”

Aedion shook his head in disbelief and laughed.

“How the hell are you so chipper after 2 hours of sleep?” he asked.

“Because I am genetically superior in every way,” she smirked back.

They walked through the doors together, hand in hand, and paused to take it all in. Before they headed up to the interns’ locker rooms, they each grabbed a coffee from a cart in the foyer.

“Are you on my level of chipper now?” Aelin teased as Aedion gulped down his coffee in the same manner as a man who had not seen water in weeks.

“I’m as perky as it gets,” he deadpanned, pushing open the door to the locker rooms.

She surveyed the room, taking in the sights of hospital life. Interns were changing into scrubs, doing last minute cramming, and grabbing a few more moments of sleep before the day officially began. The people in this room could be her future best friends or her worst enemies, but they were all competition either way.

She managed to find three empty lockers together and shoved her bag and coat into one of them, pulling her scrubs on as quickly as she could. She was pulling her long blonde hair into a ponytail when a woman who looked to be a couple years older than them and had a severe facial expression, white-blonde hair, and a clipboard walked into the room.

“Listen up. Your residents will start coming to get you in groups. Listen for your names because they will only be called once. Ashryver, Caraverre, Galathynius, Havilliard, and Westfall, you’re with me. Get a move on.”

Aelin, Aedion, Lysandra, and two other young men all hurried out into the hallway, practically shoving each other out of the way to keep up with the woman who was striding down the corridor at an incredibly fast pace. She came to a stop in front of the 3rd floor nurses’ station. She threw each of them a pager.

“My name is Dr. Blackbeak. You five will be my interns for the next year. You will do as I say at all times, and you will do your very best to not be incompetent. As interns it will be your first instinct to be incompetent, but I am telling you as your resident: you do not want to be incompetent, because then I will dislike you. Trust me, you do not want me to dislike you. You will answer your pagers at a run. And if I am running, you should also be running, because I do not like running. If I am running, there is a very good reason.”

She paused to take a breath, or maybe just to check that they all looked suitably terrified. “Your first shift starts now and lasts for 48 hours. On-call rooms are located on the 2nd floor; grab sleep when you can, and when I am sleeping do not wake me up unless a patient is dying. I would say good luck, but I probably wouldn’t mean it. Any questions?”

They shook their heads.

Dr. Blackbeak eyed them all with suspicion, but finally seemed satisfied that she’d scared them enough to keep them in line. For a while, at least.

“I heard they call her the witch,” Lysandra whispered in her ear while Dr. Blackbeak was distracted talking to another resident.

“I can see why,” Aelin whispered back.

Dr. Blackbeak cleared her throat to get their attention again.

“I am on Dr. Whitethorn’s service today, which means that by extension so are you. We will go over what my current patients will need throughout the day when we’re on rounds. You’ll be keeping an eye on them and assisting me with anything that Dr. Whitethorn needs.”

_Hour Two_

Rounds went by quickly and Aelin was able to answer every question that Dr. Blackbeak asked her correctly. She was running on a high of adrenalin, sugar, and coffee, and she was ready to fucking nail the tasks that were ahead of her. She was just going over the patient notes that she had made that morning when Dr. Blackbeak had called them all over.

“I want you all to meet Dr. Whitethorn, the Cardiothoracic attending that we will be assisting today.” She gestured to a man who stood facing away from them.

He turned around, smiling slightly, ready to greet the new class of interns.

Aelin almost dropped her notepad, because standing there in dark blue attending scrubs in all his asshole glory was him. The man from Fenrys’ apartment.

He hadn’t spotted her yet, thank gods. She ducked her head, trying to avoid eye contact.

“Guys, that’s the asshole from this morning,” she hissed at Lysandra and Aedion.

They both froze for a moment, then looked at each other and started snickering.

“This is not funny,” she whispered. “He’s an attending, he could make my life a living hell.”

They only laughed harder.

She looked up to find him staring right at her.

Shit.

He gave her a disdainful once over, and she knew in that moment that she was completely screwed.

Shit.

_Hour 20_

“Well, it's official,” Aelin whined, throwing herself down onto one of the cots that she and the other interns had discovered in a deserted hallway in the basement. It was quieter than the cafeteria and the five of them had quickly claimed it as their encampment.

“What’s official?” Dorian asked from where he was slumped on the cot next to hers. Lysandra was taking a nap on the same cot that Aelin was now lying on, and Aedion was camped out in one of the wheelchairs. Chaol was nowhere to be seen; one of the patients had taken a liking to him, so he was probably stuck with them.

“I have to quit and become a stripper because the Cardiothoracic attending hates me.”

“Because you slept with his flatmate?”

Aelin had immediately liked Dorian. He was a shameless flirt and a good doctor, both good things in her books. When he asked her why the Cardio God kept looking at her, the whole story had just slipped out.

“I didn’t sleep with him, I told you. I was only there because we were both too drunk to order me an Uber back to my house. Anyway, Whitethorn was hideously rude to me for no good reason, so I should be the one who’s giving him the cold shoulder.”

“But Cardio God doesn’t know you didn’t sleep with him, and he doesn’t like you because you shamelessly checked him out after sneaking out of his friend’s room.”

Aedion was laughing at her from his wheelchair and she seriously considered beating his ass so thoroughly he’d actually need it. Dorian started to chuckle alongside him.

“I don’t know what you find so amusing, Havilliard. Dr. Blackbeak doesn’t like you, which might be even worse.”

Dorian groaned and buried his head in his hands.

“I didn’t know she was my resident when I hit on her at the coffee cart this morning, I swear. I just have spectacularly bad luck.”

They sat in commiserating silence for a few minutes.

“They’ll both get over it,” Aedion finally said. “In a few weeks, we will have totally forgotten all of this.”

“You know I’ve always wanted to specialise in Cardio,” Aelin whined. “What if he hates me forever and I have to pick a different speciality? Like Ortho!” She shuddered in mock disgust.

“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with Orthopaedics, Aelin. Stop being such a snob,” Aedion chided.

She huffed.

“Dr. Whitethorn will get over it,” Aedion repeated. “You’ll have your hands on a heart in no time.”

“I had better.”

_Hour 32_

“Mrs. Whittaker has been on the transplant waiting list for 2 years,” Dr. Whitethorn began as they all crowded into the room of a young woman. Too young to be needing a new heart.

“Mrs. Whittaker.” He smiled at her, and Aelin was surprised he was capable of smiling so warmly. “UNOS called.”

“Are you telling me I’m getting a heart, Dr. Whitethorn?” the woman beamed “Because if you’re telling me I’m getting a new heart, then you definitely get to call me Lily.”

“Well then Lily, you can call me Rowan, because the organ retrieval team is fetching it now.”

The woman began to cry, and her partner threw his arms around Dr. Whitethorn. Rowan, she internally corrected. Nice name, shame it was wasted on such a miserable person.

She took petty comfort in the fact that he looked deeply uncomfortable with the affection he was receiving.

“Dr. Blackbeak, you can begin to prep the patient for surgery,” he said, walking out of the room and then looking around at the wide-eyed interns as they all spilled out behind him.

“This surgery is going to be tough but rewarding,” he addressed them all, and then looked directly at Aelin. “I hope you all got enough sleep.”

Bastard.

“Okay,” Aedion whispered in her ear. “Maybe he does hate you.”

_Hour 47_

None of them had been allowed to touch a scalpel, obviously, but Aelin had watched in rapt concentration from the gallery. As much of an asshole as he was, Rowan truly was a Cardio God. His fingers moved so deftly and with such precision, sometimes he had finished a stitch before she’d even noticed he had started. She needed to work with him the same way that she needed to breathe. She had been dreaming of Cardiothoracics since she was old enough to know what Cardiothoracics was. She’d studied her ass off and graduated top of her class at Stanford Medical School, and she had a PhD from Berkeley. She was a double doctor for gods’ sake! He had to teach her, he just had to.

She was waiting outside the operating room as he came out, drying his hands and scowling. Or maybe that was just his resting face. He looked surprised to see her. She swallowed her pride and opened her mouth to congratulate him on a fantastic surgery.

“Listen,” he cut her off before she could even start, “I have zero interest in hearing your excuses as to why you were out getting drunk and screwing my roommate the night before you came to work, but you need to hear me. If you ever seem even slightly hungover when you’re on my service, you will not be setting foot inside of my OR. We have human lives in our hands and you would do well to remember that. I don’t care how many times you came to medical school still drunk and still aced your classes. This is not school anymore. You fuck up here, someone dies. Now leave me alone.”

Aelin couldn’t even process what she had heard before he was storming off down the corridor.

Who the fuck did he think he was? He thought he had her all figured out, huh? For the second time in a very short period, Rowan had managed to get under Aelin’s skin so badly that she was practically vibrating with anger. She would never, ever put a patient's life in danger. She knew very well what time she had to stop drinking to be sober enough the next morning, and she had done exactly that. Yeah okay, he had her on the lack of sleep, but she didn’t really sleep anyway. Better to be at a bar having fun than lying awake in her bed. Even worse than him thinking he had her number, though, was the fact that his analysis could really endanger her career.

_Hour 48_

Aelin was still fuming when she and the other interns in her group gathered in the locker room to have their final briefing of the day from Dr. Blackbeak.

Lysandra and Aedion were sitting on one of the benches, heads resting on one another, eyes closed. Dorian was leaning against the lockers, looking no more awake despite the fact that his eyes were open, and Chaol was sipping at a mug of black coffee, eyes slowly drifting closed between blinks. They all looked exhausted, but Aelin, despite having the least amount of sleep out of all of them, was still raring to go. She was running on rage.

Dr. Blackbeak walked into the room before she could tell them all about the rage-inducing encounter she’d just had.

She addressed the half-asleep group.

“Well done, none of you embarrassed me. Now go home, get some sleep and I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

Despite her anger, Aelin smiled. She had survived her first 48 hours as a surgeon.


	3. Woke Up On The Wrong Side (Of You)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am just absolutely on a roll folks, this story is writing itself pretty much. So a disclaimer. A surgeon deffo would not be able to have kickboxing as a hobby I'm pretty sure, but I just can't write Aelin without a violent hobby so... enjoy the chapter , as usual, comments and kudos make me write faster <3

Aelin needed to kick the shit out of something. She was still seething over her interaction with Rowan, and she needed to release some tension. So, she headed home with Lysandra, but instead of going to bed as she should have done, she pulled on a pair of workout shorts and a sports bra, grabbed her gym bag, and headed right back out the door.

It was 11pm when she arrived, and the gym was deserted. This was something she loved about the house her parents owned here in Seattle that she now shared with Lysandra, the 24-hour gym right around the corner. She flashed her membership card to the receptionist and walked into the locker room, pulling out the material she needed to wrap her hands before she put on her boxing gloves. It was soothing, wrapping her hands, such a familiar task that she felt slightly better already. She grabbed her boxing gloves and walked back out into the empty gym, towards the punching bags. She had started kickboxing when she was 16. After she’d quit ballet, her parents had gotten so sick of her bouncing off the walls due to all the excess energy that they’d all but kicked her out of the house, telling her not to come back until she had a new hobby. It was Sam who had suggested kickboxing.

She bit the inside of her cheek, trying to distract herself from memories of Sam. He would have laughed himself hoarse if he knew the situation she had gotten herself into. She wouldn’t have been drunk at a bar alone if Sam was still alive, though. She shook out her limbs, as if she could shake out the memories of Sam’s face lighting up when she would walk through the door of their favorite place to get wasted and do stupid things. Back when drinking had still been fun and new. She stretched her aching limbs out before turning her attention to the punch bag in front of her, the one she was now imagining a certain doctor’s face on.

She stayed for an hour, working out her frustrations, and finished with a quick run on the treadmill. She was sweaty and her knees were shaking by the time she was done. Tiredness weighed down her body and she couldn’t think of anything better than crawling into bed, but her mind was still running away with thoughts of Sam and frustration with herself. One drink couldn’t hurt, could it? The bar was only a short walk away and she could just have one drink and head home. She nodded to herself, deciding that’s what she’d do. One drink and head home.

Fenrys was behind the bar when she arrived, talking to a group of giggling girls from a hen party, looking at him like they wanted to eat him alive.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he exclaimed as she took a seat at the bar.

“Getting a drink, obviously.”

Fenrys’ jaw dropped slightly. “Have you slept at all? Don’t all the interns have to complete a 48-hour shift when they first start?”

“I slept for a couple of hours in an on-call room and I had like 2 hours when I stayed at yours. I don’t need much.”

“Clearly.” Fenrys raised an eyebrow.

“Tequila please,” she tried to steer the conversation away from her sleeping habits, or lack thereof.

Fenrys grimaced slightly. “Look, if you really want a drink I won’t stop you. But…”

“But what?”

“Rowan asked me not to serve you if you came in tonight.”

“I’m sorry, he did what? That is beyond inappropriate! I’m not some alcoholic, it’s just been a long shift and I just wanted one drink to relax me before I headed home.”

She was stunned, just as she’d started to lose the sharp pang of anger in her stomach. The audacity of this man really blew her away. It was none of his fucking business what she did when she left the hospital, as long as she showed up on time and sober.

Fenrys coughed uncomfortably. “Look, Rowan can be weird about drinking. I don’t wanna tell you anything that’s not mine to share, but it’s not personal.”

Well, that was cryptic. Aelin sighed. It wasn’t Fenrys’ fault that his flatmate was an asshole. She tried taking a few of the calming breaths that Lys was always nagging her about.

“Fine, but can you tell him that we didn’t sleep together? I don’t know if he’s in love with you or something, but he doesn’t like me, and I have to work at that hospital for the next three years, so it would be great if the head of my chosen specialty didn’t hate me.”

Fenrys burst into peals of laughter. “Rowan, in love with me,” he managed to get out between breaths. “That is hilarious.”

Aelin glared at him. “Listen, just because I like you and you’re in charge of the tequila doesn’t mean I won’t kick your ass,” she threatened when he still didn’t stop laughing.

“I’m sorry, but that is just hilarious. Rowan is just an asshole, he’s not in love with me. Trust me.”

“If he’s such an asshole why do you live with him?”

“Because he’s an asshole who I love, and we’ve been through a lot together. He’s got his reasons for being such a prick, I swear. I’ll talk to him, try and get him to go easy on you.”

Aelin looked at the clock behind the bar. 12:30am. If she headed home now, assuming that she lay awake for half the time she was actually in bed, she could probably get around 3 hours of sleep.

“On second thought, don’t talk to him. I get the feeling he’s the kind of guy who wouldn’t respect people who get others to fight their battles.”

Fenrys nodded in confirmation, and Aelin picked up her gym bag from the floor.

“One tequila shot for the road.” She grinned and pulled out her card to pay as Fenrys rolled his eyes and poured one out. “Do not tell Rowan.” She leaned over the bar and kissed Fenrys on the cheek, hoping that their blossoming friendship was important enough to him that he’d keep his mouth shut.

She swallowed the liquid down smoothly.

The next few days went by in a blur. She didn’t go back to the bar, though she and Fenrys had been texting each other, mostly memes. She wouldn’t admit it, but she was staying away because of Rowan. As much as she loved tequila, she loved Cardiothoracics more. It was deeply unfair that she had to choose between the two just because Dr. Whitethorn had decided to have some vendetta against her, but she really would stop at nothing to get him to teach her.

So, she turned up early, perky and ready to learn, answered every question that he asked, and practically tackled the other interns to be the one who ran his labs. Instead of heading to the bar when she finished work she went to the gym (things didn't mean that she couldn't drink at home anyway.) She and Fenrys had agreed to spar on his upcoming day off, which she was looking forward to. It had been awhile since she’d had someone to test her skills against.

Kickboxing was another thing she knew Rowan would take issue with. As a surgeon, she should have been doing everything she could to protect her precious hands. But what the other surgeons didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them, and Fenrys had been sworn to secrecy. She was always careful to ice her hands after a tough training session, and she knew when to stop. Or, she usually knew when to stop.

“Did you hear?” Dorian caught up to her in the hallway on her way to get ready for rounds, nudging her shoulder with his own.

“Hear what?” she asked

“Whitethorn’s got a piggyback transplant on the OR board today.” He grinned at her with excitement.

“You’re kidding!”

A heterotopic transplant had been on her bucket list for years, and Dr. Whitethorn was known for them. She had to get herself on his service for the day.

She was buzzing with the possibility as she changed for the day, listening to Lysandra talk about the failed date she had been on the night before.

“I don’t know why you bother going on dates at all,” Aelin whispered, looking around the locker room to check that no one was listening. “We both know you’re in love with my cousin.”

Lysandra went scarlet, opening and closing her mouth as if she was trying to protest but the words just weren’t forming.

“I am not _in love_ with Aedion,” she hissed eventually, hitting Aelin on the arm with a little too much force to be playful.

Aelin shrugged.

“If you say so,” she replied in a sing-song voice, letting Lysandra know exactly just how little she bought that story.

Before Lysandra could reply with the usual level of contempt that she mustered whenever Aelin tried to get her to admit her feelings for Aedion, Dr. Blackbeak entered the room.

“You’re all late,” she shouted, even though Aelin knew for a fact that they still had five minutes before rounds started.

“Who pissed in her cornflakes this morning?” Aedion asked, appearing beside them.

“I can take a guess,” Aelin replied, inclining her head towards Dorian who was very deliberately not making eye contact with any of them.

“What did you do, Havilliard?’ Aedion groaned, knowing all too well they were in for a hellish day if Dorian had pissed off Manon Blackbeak before rounds had even started.

Dorian blushed, suddenly finding a piece of lint on his sleeve very interesting.

“I didn’t do anything,” he protested.

They all stared at him in quiet disbelief.

“Okay, fine!” he snapped. “I may have told her she looked nice this morning. The woman can’t take a compliment.”

Aelin rolled her eyes. Trust Dorian to piss off their resident on the day she most needed her to be on her side. She had been planning on asking Dr. Blackbeak to put her on Dr. Whitethorn’s service, but now she’d have to find another way.

Dr. Whitethorn was also in a foul mood. Today was just not her day. He’d snapped at Dr. Blackbeak when she had referred to the scheduled surgery as a piggyback instead of using the proper name, and he had barked at Aedion to go get him a coffee instead of standing there looking stupid. Aelin had, however, been the only intern who had been able to perfectly describe the heterotopic transplant procedure, so he had grudgingly allowed her to be on his service for the day. She planned to keep her mouth shut for once in her life, just do whatever she was asked, and hopefully she’d be allowed inside the OR.

That lasted for about 5 minutes.

“So, Dr. Galathynius, get up to anything fun last night?” Rowan asked as they were walking down the corridor.

At first she was happily surprised that he was actually speaking to her, and about her life no less. Maybe they really could slip into a mentor-mentee relationship despite their rocky start. But then she saw the look on his face. The cruel sneer. He was making a joke, at her expense. She took a breath in through her nose and breathed out through her mouth. It didn’t calm her at all.

“Oh, you know, just an all-night rager at the playboy mansion,” she snapped.

He laughed coldly. They walked in silence after that.

The whole day was filled with tense silence, but to his credit, he didn’t kick her off his service. She did exactly as she was told, and when it came time to operate, he allowed her to scrub in and observe.

“Dr. Galathynius, would you massage the heart for me please?” he had even asked her towards the end of the procedure.

She had held a heart today. She had assisted on a heterotopic heart transplant.

“That was amazing,” she said, as she and Dr. Whitethorn were scrubbing out.

He grunted in response.

“Look,” she began, drying her hands. “I know you don’t like me, and that’s completely fine with me. But I want to be a fantastic Cardiothoracic surgeon and I’d really like your help to achieve that.”

Dr. Whitethorn looked at her and raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t interrupt so she continued.

“You know that I know the most about Cardio out of all the interns, and you know that I’m good. I could be great. Please help me become great, Dr. Whitethorn.”

Silence filled the room as Rowan fully turned to look at her.

“I’ll think about it,” he replied.

It was a start.


	4. The Two Of Us (Are Just Young Gods)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Never mind Aelin being a god, I am a god. I have written 7,000 words in less than 24 hours and I show no signs of stopping. Enjoy the chapter folks <3

“I am a god!” Aelin declared as she pushed open the double doors to the bar, the other interns trailing behind her.

“And humble too,” Chaol mumbled as they all crowded around one of the tables.

“You’re just jealous because I absolutely kicked your ass at skills lab today,” she crowed.

Lysandra, Aedion, Chaol, and Dorian gave her a rude gesture at the exact same time, as if they’d practiced it.

“I kicked all of your asses.”

Today had been a good day. Dr. Whitethorn still hadn’t spoken to her even though she’d asked him to work with her a whole three days ago, but today had been a good day nonetheless. They’d all had skills lab all day with Dr. Ytger, the hospital head of surgery. Aelin had excelled, her steady hands and surgical knowledge landing her in the top spot of the class. Which meant that in a week’s time, she’d be performing her first solo surgery. She had heard that in previous years it had always been an appendectomy, so she fully intended to come in and practise in the skills lab the next day, even though it was her first day off since she started.

“I cannot believe you managed to get the first solo surgery,” Aedion complained.

“Yes, you can,” Aelin replied, patting his head patronisingly, “because I am absolutely brilliant in every way.”

Aedion shoved her away, laughing. “Asshole.”

She stuck her tongue out at him and rose to her feet to go get drinks at the bar.

“First round is on me because I feel bad for showing you all up today,” she told them, hand on her heart, as sincerely as she could (which wasn’t very sincerely at all).

She walked over to the bar and slammed a palm down on the wooden surface.

“Barkeep!” she yelled at Fenrys. “Ten of your finest tequila shots!”

Fenrys laughed and fetched the tequila from under the bar.

“Good day, Aelin?” He smiled.

“The best. And I don’t have to work tomorrow so I can have as much tequila as I want and that buzzard of a doctor that you live with can keep his fat mouth shut.”

Fenrys’ eyes widened and he shook his head slightly, as if in warning. Aelin closed her eyes.

“He’s behind me, isn’t he?” she sighed.

Fenrys only nodded and conveniently found somewhere else to be.

“Buzzard?” A voice said from behind her. “That’s a new one.”

Aelin cringed and spun around to face him.

“I was talking about someone else?” she tried.

“As far as I’m aware, I’m the only doctor that lives with Fenrys.”

Aelin cursed herself. Just as she thought she’d made some progress, she’d put her stupid foot in her mouth. To her surprise though, Rowan didn’t look pissed off. At least, no more pissed off than usual.

“I suggest, Dr. Galathynius, that you enjoy those tequila shots,” he said, “because if you’re going to be on my service you will not be drinking at all.”

Aelin blinked. “On your service?” she asked hesitantly.

“There are conditions,” he replied.

She nodded, not daring to actually speak, just in case she said something else stupid and he changed his mind.

“Like I said, you won’t drink a drop while you’re on my service. You will arrive an hour before rounds so we can work on your practical knowledge, and you can only be on my service for three days out of the six that you work.”

Aelin opened her mouth to protest.

“You’re an intern. Interns aren’t meant to have specialties. But you seem pretty determined, and none of the current residents show any aptitude for Cardio, so I will be making an exception. Do not make me regret it, Galathynius.”

Aelin was so happy she could cry. She wouldn’t cry, obviously, because that would be deeply embarrassing and pathetic, so she just grinned at him.

“Aelin,” was all she said in response.

He looked confused.

“You can call me Aelin. Since you’re probably going to be working me to death, you should know what name to put on my tombstone. It’s Aelin.”

“I’ll see you bright and early Monday morning, Dr. Galathynius.”

Dr. Whitethorn was a sadist. That was the only explanation for why he had chosen to mentor her. Because he sure as shit didn’t like her. So clearly, he just liked inflicting pain on her. He snapped every time she got an answer wrong; and drilled her on Cardiothoracic procedure so often and in such painstaking detail she was sure she was describing air embolisms in her sleep. And to make things even worse, she couldn't have a drink to take the edge off, because then he wouldn't work with her at all. He had paged her at 3am the night before, and when she arrived he had met her in the foyer, a stopwatch in his hand.

“Not fast enough,” he had growled. “If I was a critical patient I’d be dead by now.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Did you seriously stop to put makeup on?”

Aelin blushed. “No?”

She hated him. She was, however, learning more than she ever had. Her stitches were neater than they had ever been and she finally understood the theory behind some of the surgeries she had never been able to wrap her head around. She could deal with a miserable existence, working with a man who never had a kind word to say, if it meant she would be brilliant.

It was the day of her solo surgery; she had been up all night cramming. All she knew was that it was a general surgery procedure, so she had gone over as many as she could, drilling each step into her head.

“You look like shit,” was Rowan’s way of greeting her as she walked into his office at 5:30am.

“Gee, thanks,” she replied, taking a seat on the chair in front of his desk and throwing her feet up on the desk.

He raised an eyebrow.

She moved her feet.

“Did you even sleep?” he growled at her. Clearly he was in a fabulous mood this morning. Nothing new there, then.

Aelin waved a hand to dismiss his question, but she couldn’t do much to hide the dark circles under her eyes that gave away how tired she really was.

“I asked you a question, Galathynius,” he snapped.

“I don’t see how my sleeping habits are any of your godsdamned business,” she snapped right back.

“Because you’re no good to me if you fall asleep in the middle of a procedure, are you?”

“I’m not even on your service today, I’ve got my solo surgery.” She preened slightly despite herself.

Rowan made a noise that she would have called a snarl had it not come from a man wearing scrubs and a lab coat.

“Fine,” she sighed. “I had maybe two or so hours of sleep. Which is plenty.”

Rowan shook his head in disbelief.

“Two hours is not enough for a surgeon, Galathynius. Especially one going solo.”

“I’m not good at sleeping, okay?” she admitted. “I can’t take sleeping pills because they make me too groggy and then I can’t concentrate the next day. I’ve been surviving on this little sleep for far longer than I’ve known you, so will you please drop it.”

Rowan stared at her, his eyes softening slightly.

“Lessons are cancelled this morning,” he said finally. “You are going to nap.”

Aelin threw up her hands in frustration. “I told you I can’t sleep.”

“Then rest your eyes. You can sleep there.” He gestured to the couch behind her.

Aelin huffed, but stood up to go over to the couch. She was pretty exhausted, and maybe with someone else in the room she’d actually be able to sleep for a while. She pulled her lab coat over her as a makeshift blanket and closed her eyes.

“Dr. Whitethorn?” she said as she was drifting off. “Thank you.”

“Go to sleep, Aelin,” was his only response.

And for the first time in a long time, Aelin fell asleep easily, to the calming sounds of Rowan turning the pages of his medical journal.


	5. Wrestling (With My Demons)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM AN UNSTOPPABLE WRITING MACHINE. I have written over 9,000 words of this stupid fanfiction in less than 24 hours, but can I write any of the scripts I need to write or any of my novel? No obviously not. So I hope you all enjoy this chapter because this story might be the only decent thing I ever write. Also this is set in America because of Grey's but I am English so if some of the words aren't words that Americans would use that's why. And I know nothing about kickboxing so please ignore how incorrect I'm sure all the terminology is.

Rowan woke her up unceremoniously by playing the sound of an airhorn on his computer. She woke up groggily, opening only one eye at first. He was sitting at his desk, smiling. Typical, one of the only times she’d seen him smile and it was at her expense.

“You’re an asshole,” she groaned. “Has anyone ever told you that?”

“Many, many people. Although I’m not sure you should be telling me that since you’re an intern and I am an almighty Cardiothoracic attending.”

“Not to blow your own trumpet or anything,” Aelin mumbled as she rose to her feet and stretched her arms above her head.

Rowan laughed, a proper laugh this time. Not cold and unfeeling, but full of warmth.

“Fuck off,” he laughed. “Go bother your resident instead of me. She should be able to tell you what your surgery is by now.”

Aelin practically ran out of the door, but not before pausing at the threshold to blow Rowan a sarcastic kiss.

“I’ll make sure to tell everyone how soft you’ve gone,” she said over her shoulder. “Letting the interns nap on your couch, your reputation will be ruined.”

Rowan’s answering growl sent her running down the hallway.

Her surgery was scheduled for 11am and just as she’d predicted, it was an appendectomy. Easy peasy. She could do an appy in her sleep. Well, she’d never actually done an appy, but she had the theory down pat. Dr. Ytger was scheduled to observe, no doubt to see whether she’d made the correct choice in Aelin. She was not planning to let her down.

“Open, identify, ligate, remove, irrigate, close,” she repeated to herself as she scrubbed in. “Open, identify, ligate, remove, irrigate, close.”

She took a deep breath in and pushed back her shoulders.

_My name is Aelin Galathynius, and I will not be afraid._

She was going to ace this surgery.

She entered the room, hands held to her body to keep them sterile. A nurse helped her into her gown and gloves. She vaguely noted her friends sitting in the gallery, watching. If she had looked carefully, she would have seen that Rowan Whitethorn sat quietly at the back, but she was focused completely on the woman on the table in front of her.

“Okay,” she addressed the room of nurses, the anaesthesiologist, and most importantly, Dr. Ytger. She gave the latter a respectful nod. “Let’s get started. Scalpel, please.”

It was all going so smoothly. She had opened the peritoneum without a hitch and removed the appendix. All she had to do now was invert the stump into the cecum and pull up the pursestrings. Easy. Steady hands were important for this part, if she pulled too hard, she’d break the pursestrings and the body cavity would fill with blood and stool. It was fixable if it came to that, but she knew she’d have to ask Dr. Ytger to take over if that happened. She was staring into an open wound, planning her next move, when all of a sudden a memory took over, freezing her in place. She looked down at her bloody hands and they were no longer the steady hands of a surgeon, but the shaking hands of a young woman, covered in her boyfriend's blood.

_“Sam!”_ her memory shouted in her ears. _“Wake up, please wake up.”_

She wasn’t in the hospital anymore, she was on her knees outside a bar as her boyfriend bled out on the ground. As Sam bled out on the ground.

“Dr. Galathynius,” a voice said sharply. “Dr. Galathynius.”

She blinked and she was back. Back in the hospital. With her hands in an open body cavity.

“Sorry.” She grounded herself. “Scalpel.”

The rest of the surgery went off without a hitch. When she looked up at the gallery to her friends they were all cheering, but she barely noticed, because Rowan Whitethorn was staring right at her like he knew. Like he could see right through the bravado she painted on each morning. Like he could see the mess underneath. But then he blinked and the look was gone, replaced with his usual bored contempt, and she wondered if it had ever been there at all.

“Aelin, you magnificent beast,” Dorian said by way of greeting, slinging an arm around her shoulders. “You just won me $150 by pulling that surgery off.” 

“You mean to tell me there were people who bet against me?” she answered in mock offence.

“None of the inner circle, obviously,” Dorian answered quickly.

Inner circle. She liked that. It had been her, Lysandra, and Aedion alone for such a long time, it was a welcome change to have Dorian and Chaol hanging around too, and they all liked Fenrys, which was nice. He had joined them the last few times they’d been to the bar (where Aelin had stayed hideously sober due to Rowan’s rules).

She and Dorian walked together to the basement where the others were waiting. They all had party horns that they blew when she walked into their sights.

She laughed, the heavy feeling in her chest beginning to subside somewhat. It wouldn’t go away completely for a while, though. It always stuck around for days after she had a flashback like she’d had that day.

“You’re all too sweet,” she smiled “I know it must be hard to be friends with someone who is so brilliant, but you all do a fantastic job of hiding your resentment.”

They all groaned and Lysandra threw her party horn at Aelin. “Stop ruining the moment, you egotistical cow,” she sighed.

Aelin planted a sloppy kiss on her cheek. “You wouldn’t have me any other way.”

Lysandra pulled her in for a hug. “Of course I wouldn’t.”

She thought she’d managed to get away with it, that neither Lysandra or Aedion had noticed her hesitation in the operating room. But Aedion was annoyingly observant and there wasn’t much that got past him (apart from Lysandra’s obvious feelings for him, and his own for her).

“Hey.” He cornered her as they were leaving for the day “Are you okay? I thought the flashbacks had stopped.”

“Flashbacks?” she asked, painting a look of confusion on her face.

“I thought in the operating room… you got that look on your face like you used to after--“

“Nope,” she replied. Although she felt guilty for lying to Aedion, this really wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have today.

“You know that if you were still having trouble you could talk to me, right?” Aedion’s eyes were soft as he pulled her in for a hug.

She wrapped her arms around him, tears that she wouldn’t allow to fall stinging her eyes. “I’m okay, Aedion. I love you for checking though.”

“Love you too.”

Aelin lay awake that night, wracked with guilt over lying to him, and plagued with memories that wouldn’t stop running though her head over and over and over. Sam’s blood on her hands. The ride to the hospital in the ambulance. The sound of the heart monitor flatlining while Aedion had held her back while she screamed and fought, trying to get to him, trying to save him.

When she arrived at the hospital the next morning she was a complete mess. Hands shaking from the sheer amount of coffee that she’d consumed to rouse herself, hair a disaster piled up on top of her head, and circles under her eyes even darker than they had been before. She cringed when she caught sight of herself in the glass doors, and made a detour to the bathrooms to slap some concealer under her eyes and pull her hair into a braid.

“Good morning, Dr. Whitethorn,” she greeted as she entered his office.

He looked up at her from his desk, scrutinising her face and seeming displeased with what he found there. “Didn’t sleep again last night?” he asked.

Aelin wrinkled her nose. She knew for a fact that she looked much better than she had before she’d entered the bathroom. She wasn’t used to people looking past the blonde hair and the striking blue eyes to actually see the very few flaws she had on show.

“I saw you as you walked in this morning.” He seemed to read everything she was thinking. “You look less shitty now, though.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever looked shitty a day in my life,” she huffed. “I don’t know why you keep saying that I do.”

“Fine, tired not shitty.”

“So, you admit that I am the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen who is incapable of looking shitty?” She shot him a teasing wink.

“Don’t push your luck.”

She grinned at him and took a sip of the coffee she had brought from the cart in the foyer that she now frequented.

“What happened yesterday in the operating room?” Rowan asked gently. Or his approximation of gentle, at the very least.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Aelin…”

“I said I. don’t. know. what. you’re. talking. about,” she replied through gritted teeth.

Rowan rolled his eyes. “Fine, don’t talk to me about it. But I’m sending you home for the day.”

“Excuse me?!” Aelin exclaimed.

“Your last day off was a week ago and I know for a fact that you were here in the skills lab anyway rather than resting, and you look exhausted. Today is your day off, so I can’t quite fathom why you’re here. Go home.”

“So, because I don’t want to talk to you about my personal life I’m being punished. That seems terribly unprofessional to me,” she seethed.

“No, I’m sending you home because it’s your day off.”

Aelin pushed back her chair with enough force to knock it over and stormed out of the room.

“And no staying in the skills lab either!” Rowan called after her.

She cursed him under her breath. Stupid man, sticking his big fucking nose where it didn’t belong. She was a godsdamn doctor, not some fragile child whom he could punish at his whim. How dare he send her home because she didn’t want to spill her trauma over coffee at 5:30 in the morning?

She headed straight to the gym since the bar wasn’t open yet, texting Fenrys to see if he’d meet her there. He had replied almost immediately that yes he was free, and yes he’d meet her there. He was waiting by the mats when she arrived. And he whistled appreciatively at her gym shorts and sports bra combo.

“Don’t be gross.” She wrinkled her nose at him.

“Come on then Galathynius, show me what you got.” He raised his boxing glove clad fists at her.

“Hang on, I need to stretch.”

She stretched as quickly and efficiently as she could, maybe slightly enjoying the fact that Fenrys was eyeing her ass as she stretched out her hamstrings. She was definitely not interested in him as anything other than a friend, but sometimes it was nice to be reminded that she was a highly attractive woman.

Especially when she spent most of her days with a man who didn’t even seem to notice that she was female at all. She’d never caught Rowan looking at her with anything other than professional courtesy. She, on the other hand, couldn’t help but notice how hot he was. He pissed her off more than anyone she’d ever met, but sometimes when they were snapping at each other, she couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like if the passion they displayed when arguing moved to the bedroom.

“Come on Aelin, I’m ageing here,” Fenrys whined.

She hopped to her feet and moved onto the mat with him, raising her hands in sparring position.

Fenrys kept up well. She actually had to earn it for once, but she did earn it.

“Yield,” she growled as she pressed him into the mat, an arm wrapped around his neck in a headlock.

He tapped her on the arm and they both collapsed on the mat, sweating and panting profusely.

“Holy shit, Aelin. Where the hell did you learn to fight like that?” Fenrys wheezed between heavy breaths.

“My boyfriend and I trained together when I was a teenager,” she allowed herself to reply. “He was from a shitty neighbourhood and he’d been fighting with his brothers since he was tiny. He taught me everything he knew.”

“Where is he now? The boyfriend?”

“Dead,” Aelin replied flatly.

“Ah shit, I’m sorry,” Fenrys replied. She didn’t turn to look at him, unable to cope with seeing pity in his eyes.

“Come on,” she said instead, pulling him to his feet. “Let’s go again. Your roommate has pissed me off already this morning and I still have the need to kick the shit out of someone.”

“How the hell has Whitethorn managed to piss you off before 9am?”

“Kicked me out of the hospital this morning because I didn’t want to talk about my feelings.”

Fenrys quirked an eyebrow. “Talking about feelings, that doesn’t really sound like him.”

Aelin just shrugged and raised her hands to signal she was ready to go again. Fenrys sighed heavily but also moved into fighting stance.

Two rounds later they were both lying face up on the mat wheezing. Two rounds had gone to Aelin but Fenrys had managed to steal a victory in the third round. She took pride in knowing she had still won overall though.

“I’ve got to go open the bar soon,” Fenrys said when he finally got his breath back, “want to tag along?”

Aelin glanced at the clock on the wall. It was noon, so by the time she got changed and showered and actually arrived at the bar it would be at least 1pm, which was a perfectly acceptable time to start drinking. Rowan didn’t want her in the hospital, that was fine. But she wasn’t going to follow his stupid rules if he wasn’t even going to teach her.

“Yeah, let’s go,” she replied.


	6. Sip It (Til' You're Tipsy)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, some of your questions shall be answered with this chapter! Also, I'm aware that Stanford is a fantastic school but I think I'm correct in thinking it's easier to get into than Harvard. But I am an uneducated English person so really I'm just guessing here. I think that you have to study pre-med and then you go on to study for your MD. Tell me if I'm wrong in the comments though because I googled it and didn't really understand any of it and just made an educated guess

Once again, Aelin was drunk. In fact, Aelin wasn’t just drunk, she was absolutely plastered and it was only 5pm.

“You know Fenrys,” she slurred, leaning over the bar, “I think that your boyfriend Dr. Whitethorn is a meanie.”

Fenrys laughed from where he was standing further down the bar serving one of the regulars.

“I just think that it’s mean to send me home from the hospital because I don’t wanna talk about my dead boyfriend, you know?”

She stirred her glass of water with the straw Fenrys had given her, along with the instruction to sober up a little before he let her drink any more. She had never been a morose drunk, but sue her, today she was feeling a little sorry for herself.

“But did he know that you didn’t wanna talk about your dead boyfriend?” Fenrys asked after he finished charging the customer he had been serving. “Or did he want to know why you had clammed up in surgery? And for that matter, he didn’t really send you home as a punishment, did he? He sent you home because it was your day off.”

Aelin stuck her tongue out at him and he splashed her with some water from the sink.

“If you love Rowannnn so much why don’t you go and marry him?” she sulked.

Fenrys went to go and serve another customer and she was left alone with her thoughts.

Her drunken mind wouldn’t shut up about Sam. Usually it was easier to ignore the memories when she was drunk, but this time, they seemed to have been made a lot worse by copious amounts of tequila combined with a lower tolerance thanks to her recent abstinence. Alcohol, making things worse? She’d never heard something so ridiculous.

She was reliving the day Sam died, over and over and over. What could she have done differently? Why hadn’t she been nicer to him? Why had she never been nicer to him?

“Aelin?” Fenrys asked gently, and she realized that she was crying.

She wiped the tears away quickly, embarrassed.

“I’m fine,” she sniffled. “Just crying because you love Rowan more than me you know?”

Why did she do that? Put up humour as a defense every time someone tried to check in on her? Fenrys didn’t look convinced.

“Maybe you should head home, Aelin,” he said.

Usually she would have fought him tooth and nail to stay with the tequila. She couldn’t even count the amount of fights she and Aedion had gotten into because he thought she was too drunk and she thought he needed to mind his own fucking business. But she was just so godsdamn tired, so she nodded.

“Is there someone who can come get you?”

Lysandra and Aedion were the only people she would want to be around right now, and they were both working.

“Lys and Aedion are working,” she replied. “But I can get an Uber.”

“Over my dead body are you getting an Uber alone when you’re this drunk,” Fenrys growled.

Godsdamned overprotective boys everywhere.

“I can take her home,” a voice came from behind her. Very sadly, a voice she recognized.

“Fuck off, Whitethorn, I’m not at work. As you so rightly pointed out, it’s my day off. Leave me to drink in peace,” she snapped, without even giving him the satisfaction of turning around. She certainly didn’t want him to see the tear tracks on her cheeks.

“I thought you were going home. Isn’t it a little bit early to be absolutely plastered, Galathynius?”

Aelin dropped her head onto the bar, praying that he would leave her alone. She took a few steadying breaths through her nose as the world began spinning thanks to her sudden movement.

“Just cut her some slack, Ro,” she heard Fenrys whisper, as if she wouldn’t be able to hear him just because she was drunk.

“Yeah, Ro,” she mumbled. “Cut me some slack. My boyfriend died, don’t you know?”

There was an uncomfortable silence. She hadn’t meant to say that. Fucking hell, she’d really put her foot in it now. She braced herself for the pity or even worse the phrase “do you want to talk about it?” but Rowan did nothing of the sort.

“Finish your water and we’re leaving.”

“You’re not the boss of me outside of the hospital,” she grumbled.

“Finish your water and let me drive you home, and if you’re lucky I won’t put you on scut for a week for breaking one of my only rules,” Rowan said firmly, sitting down next to her at the bar.

Aelin debated arguing with him some more, but she really did just want to go home. Maybe she’d have a nice big cry. She didn’t allow herself to cry very often but hell, maybe she’d treat herself. She grabbed her water and finished it in three gulps. She made to stand up, but her feet were suddenly very wobbly beneath her.

“Can you ask the floor to stop moving?” she asked, trying desperately to steady herself.

“Oh for gods’ sake,” Rowan cursed, and before she knew it he had picked her up bridal style and was carrying her out of the bar. She watched as Fenrys raised a hand in goodbye.

“Byeeeee,” she called to him, blowing him a kiss. “Love youuuuuu.”

Rowan’s body felt firm where they touched and despite her drunken state she did manage to refrain from reaching out and squeezing one of his biceps to see if they were as hard as they looked.

“Put me down, you buzzard,” she protested, mostly just to say that she had protested, not because she was really that bothered by it.

“If you can name the first ten states in alphabetical order then I’ll put you down,” Rowan replied.

“That’s not fair,” she whined. “I don’t even know that when I’m sober.”

Rowan carried her all the way to his car parked around the corner and deposited her in the front seat, even doing her seatbelt up for her.

“Do not throw up in my car,” he warned. “I need your address.”

Aelin gave it to him and they drove to her house in complete silence. For once in the short time that she had known him, though, he didn’t exactly seem angry with her. He just looked deep in thought. Before she knew it, they were pulling up outside her and Lysandra’s house. Rowan hopped out and came around to her side to help her out of the car.

“Can you walk the 10 feet to the door, or do you need me to carry you?” he asked dryly.

She shot for what was meant to be a withering look, but probably just looked a bit confused. “I am perfectly capable of walking, thank you very much,” she replied… and promptly tripped over her own feet.

Rowan caught her just before she hit the ground, picking her up again with a grumpy sigh. He carried her to the door and unlocked it with the keys that she mutely handed to him.

“Bedroom?” He asked gruffly.

“Upstairs on the left.”

He carried her all the way upstairs and deposited her with no small amount of care onto her bed.

“Stay here,” he barked.

She listened as he stomped downstairs and by the sounds of it, into the kitchen. She pulled her favorite sweater over her head and climbed under the covers of her queen-sized bed. She couldn’t quite wrap her head around the fact that Rowan Whitethorn had carried her home from the bar, and that he hadn’t yelled at her yet. That he actually seemed to give a shit about her general wellbeing. None of it made very much sense at all.

“I want you to drink this and go to sleep.” Rowan appeared in the doorway, holding a glass of water.

“You’re very bossy, you know,” she said from under her many blankets, but held out her hand for the water nonetheless.

“I’ve been told, yes,” he replied, watching as she finished off the water. Once he seemed satisfied that she was hydrated and settled he turned as if to leave.

“Wait--“ Aelin yelped, although she wasn’t even sure why. Rowan turned to look at her. “His name was Sam.” The words had left her mouth before she even realised she was saying them.

Rowan leaned against the doorframe, letting her know that he wasn’t leaving quite yet.

“That’s why I froze up in surgery yesterday. I was remembering the night that he died.” So apparently she was telling this story. She swallowed. She could do this, she could tell him the story and then it would be out there and he would know and maybe he’d stop getting on her case about the not sleeping thing.

“Aelin,” he began, “you really don’t have to tell me this. I don’t want you regretting anything when you wake up tomorrow.”

“No, it’s fine, I want to. Can you sit down, though? You’re making me all nervous standing in the doorway like that.”

Rowan looked uncomfortable but perched himself on the very edge of the bed, as far away from her as he could be.

“Um, his name was Sam Cortland and we met when we were 11. We went to school together and we ended up getting into this fight. I don’t even remember what it was about anymore. Both of us got detention for a month, and he managed to split my lip, but I gave him a massive black eye so I guess we figured we were even. We were inseparable from then on. Aedion was so jealous, ‘cause it had always just been the two of us. He warmed up to Sam though, and the three of us were terrors.

“I feel so bad for our teachers, looking back on all of it. We were little hurricanes, drinking everything we could get our hands on, staying out all hours, not really paying attention to anything that wasn’t each other. But, Sam was smart. When it came to the time that we all actually had to focus and study he made us cram until our eyes bled. Aedion and I had wanted to be doctors since we were kids, and I think Sam was so caught up in the feeling of being part of a group he just went along with it. He’d grown up with five older brothers and parents that had never paid him much attention, so I think he needed the family that we provided. My parents loved him too. Aedion and I are both only children, so our parents basically adopted him.”

Aelin paused, swallowing back all the memories of family dinners and trips together. All of her memories past age eleven were tainted with the sound of Sam’s laughter.

“Um, anyway. When we were 18 he told me that he was in love with me. I think I’d known for a long time, but I hadn’t wanted to ruin the dynamic we had. I loved him, I was just scared. I was selfish, and I didn’t want anything to mess with our little family. We started dating though even though I was hesitant, and my parents were absolutely thrilled. It was probably the only smart choice I made as a stupid teenager. Sam was too good for me. He was kind and smart and he would have done anything for me.

“Which is why we both applied for Stanford for pre-med. He wanted to apply to Harvard but I knew there was no way I would get in. I had studied the absolute bare minimum and even though my test scores were good, I knew I wasn’t Harvard material. He was. But he applied for Stanford so he could stay with me. Aedion was furious; the plan had always been for the three of us to study our pre-med at Northwestern and then go to Stanford for our MD. But I was just so caught up with what I wanted. Didn’t care what Aedion wanted, didn’t care what Sam wanted.

“We were visiting Stanford when it happened, just the two of us. We’d only been dating for a few months and it was our first trip together. I loved California the moment that we arrived; it was all so sunny and bright and alive. I dragged Sam to a bar after our tour of the campus.” At Rowan’s questioning look, she added “We’d had fake ID’s since we were 17. He just wanted to go back to the hotel, but I insisted that we go and get a drink to celebrate.

“We were standing outside the bar, waiting for an Uber back to the hotel, when this guy came up to us and tried to rob us. Sam handed over his wallet and so did I, but then he tried to take my necklace. My mother had given it to me; it was a family heirloom. I told him where to shove it. The guy, he went for me, and Sam stepped in front of me. He was good in a fight, but this guy was huge. And he had a knife. I thought-- I thought that Sam had won when the guy ran off. But then Sam was on the floor and my hands were covered in blood. And--“ she broke off with a sob.

Rowan still said nothing, but he reached out and took her hand. Ran his thumb over her knuckles in comfort.

She took a deep breath. She would finish this story.

“And he was bleeding out. I tried to stop the bleeding, but the guy had hit an artery in his heart. The last thing he said to me was _‘Aelin, it’s okay, don’t be scared._ ’ Even as he was fucking dying, he was still trying to comfort me. He died in the hospital before they even managed to take him into surgery. It was my fault, all of it was my fault.” She looked up at Rowan, tears running down her face, expecting a look of disgust. It had been her fault, Sam had died because of her. It should have been her.

Rowan didn’t snatch away his hand, though, or run away. In fact, he reached out and wiped some of the tears off her face. “It doesn’t sound like it was your fault to me,” he said gently. “Sounds like the person at fault was the guy who stabbed him.”

Aelin looked at him in disbelief. She had told him the entire story, things she’d never even told Aedion, and he still didn’t think it was her fault? Had he been listening?

“Aelin.” He grabbed her chin and forced her to look him in the eyes. “Sam’s death was not your fault.”

She didn’t know how to respond. It was the first time anyone had said it to her that simply. It was not her fault. Rowan looked at her and cocked his head in thought.

“That’s why you froze up in surgery? Because you’ve got PTSD?”

“I don’t have PTSD, I just get these flashbacks sometimes. And that’s why I don’t sleep much, because I dream of it when I sleep.”

Rowan raised an eyebrow at her. “Sounds like PTSD to me.”

Aelin scoffed, she did not have post-traumatic stress disorder. “Don’t you think if I’d been living with PTSD for 8 years I’d know about it?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

Rowan’s face was the softest she’d ever seen it. He looked at her, not with pity, but like he understood.

“We can talk about it tomorrow,” he said finally. “If you want to.”

“I think I’d like that.”

He nodded and stood up to leave again.

“Rowan,” she said as he reached the doorway. “You can talk to me too, you know. If you want to.”

His shoulders slumped slightly and he didn’t turn around, but his tone was kind when he replied.

“I’ll think about it.”


	7. Having A Breakthrough (Or A Breakdown)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly lads, I know I'm probably not meant to admit this but I'm not so happy with this chapter. This is the third crack at it and idk I just don't love it. But the show must go on and the story needed to move on. So I hope you guys like it more than me <3

Aelin had woken up at 3am with a headache so severe it felt like someone had been playing baseball with her brain. She stumbled out of her bed and emptied the contents of her stomach into the toilet. She hadn’t realized quite how much she had drunk the night before until it was all coming back up. Lysandra had wandered into the bathroom at some point, gathered up her hair, and began to rub her back soothingly.

“You okay?” she murmured, still half asleep.

Aelin waited for the wave of nausea to subside before she answered. “Yeah,” she said finally, leaning back against the bathtub. “I got drunk and told Dr. Whitethorn about Sam last night.”

She waited for the shame to hit her, for the regret at letting someone see the dark and twisty part of her to settle in. But it didn’t. She had hidden that part of herself for so long. Thought that if she let anyone see how much she was struggling they would look at her differently. But Rowan had listened and he had seen her and he had told her it was not her fault. She was still trying to wrap her head around that. It was not her fault.

“Dr. Whitethorn?” Lysandra couldn’t have looked more shocked if she tried. “I thought we hated him. The last time I spoke to you he had kicked you out of the hospital for the day.”

Aelin told her, in as few words she could and between dry heaves, what had happened between them the night before.

When Aelin had finished her story and removed her head from the toilet she looked up at Lysandra to see her eyes filled with tears.

“Aelin I am so fucking sorry,” she whispered. “I am so sorry that I didn’t see how much you were suffering. I’m your best friend, I’m supposed to notice these things.”

Aelin threw her arms around Lysandra, immediately regretting the sudden movement but breathing through the churning feeling in her stomach. “No no no, Lys,” she answered softly, running her hand over the other woman's hair. “I’m sorry that I didn’t let you see. I thought that I had to deal with it all by myself. I thought that I deserved to deal with it alone.”

Lysandra sobbed and pulled away from Aelin’s embrace, cupping her cheek. “PTSD, though. Aelin, I am so sorry this happened to you.” She ran her thumb over Aelin’s cheekbone in a gentle caress.

Aelin swallowed down all the feelings of regret for keeping her best friend in the dark for so long. She realized with a shock that Lysandra had never met the version of herself she’d been before Sam died. Lysandra had only ever known her as a snarky, borderline alcoholic who was always awake to study with because she didn’t sleep. She wondered for a moment if Lysandra would have liked who she was before. Of course she would. Lysandra loved her, and it wasn’t that she didn’t know who Aelin really was. She had just put up with the shitty coping mechanisms for seven years because she loved Aelin despite them.

“I’m going to try to be different now, Lys. I’m gonna go to therapy, and I’m gonna try to stop keeping you and Aedion in the dark, because you don’t deserve that.”

“I want to help, Aelin.” Lysandra smiled at her gently, wiping away Aelin’s tears. “I’m so fucking proud of you.”

It was Aelin’s turn to sob then. She felt as if a great weight had been lifted from her chest. Eight years is an awfully long time to live with a giant metaphorical rock slowly crushing you, and having even just some of it removed was almost euphoric.

She felt lighter, and hopeful, and loved.

And most importantly, she felt like she might actually be deserving of love.

She and Lysandra had crawled back into bed together after that, holding each other as tightly as could.

When she awoke to the sound of her alarm going off a few hours later, she felt significantly less shitty. Probably due to the fact that she had thrown up most of the alcohol in her system. After a quick shower and two quick cups of coffee, she was ready to rock and roll. Or at least roll.

“I’m calling you Rowan now,” she said as she entered Dr. Whitethorn’s office at exactly 5:30am, carrying two cups of coffee for the first time, instead of only her own. “Since you’ve seen me cry and all.”

“Not in front of the other interns,” he countered.

She plopped herself down in her usual chair and slid one of the coffee cups across the desk to him.

“I’m surprised you were functional enough this morning to even make it to work, let alone remember my coffee order,” he said, but he smiled at her warmly. Clearly he wasn’t going to let her off the hook entirely for consuming a small party’s worth of tequila, but he hadn't told her she was off his service.

She rolled her eyes. “Just say ‘Thank you, Aelin.’”

“Thank you, Aelin,” he parroted, with only a hint of sarcasm.

Good enough.

“Thank you for last night,” she replied as casually as she could, deciding that it was better to just dive right in rather than skirting around the subject all morning.

She looked at him properly for the first time that morning. Scanning his face for any signs that he regretted helping her, for letting her tell him everything. She wouldn’t blame him if he just wanted to forget about it. He hadn’t signed up for any of this when he agreed to teach her. She couldn’t read anything in his eyes, though.

“There’s a therapist located in the hospital. She’s good. Free on our insurance, too,” was his only response.

It took Aelin a moment to process that it was his way of admitting that he was in therapy, too.

She bit her lip, resisting the urge to pry. Rowan was not the kind of person you pushed into sharing his feelings. Not that he owed her anything, anyway. Just because she had chosen to tell him her story didn’t mean he had to share anything with her.

“Okay, I’ll try and speak to her at some point today,” she settled on responding.

“I’m not good at sharing,” Rowan admitted. “I had a fiancée. She died. That’s all- that's all I can tell you for now.”

Rowan had been engaged? Aelin couldn’t picture it. Rowan had been engaged and she had died. How had she died? Aelin held in the millions of questions that had bubbled to the surface. She had a feeling that even that was more than Rowan was used to sharing.

“Thank you for telling me.”

He nodded, dismissively. ‘Conversation over’ was the message it very clearly conveyed.

“So, don’t you have some exercise for us to do that will inevitably end in me cursing the day you were born?” she asked, instead of all the other questions she had.

Rowan laughed. “I think this one might have you even cursing the day you were born.”

It would be too easy to say they were friends after that, but they were something. They had an understanding. Rowan began picking her up for work at 5am every day, after learning that she had been paying for Ubers every morning. (“You mean to tell me that you have an MD and a PhD and yet you never learned to drive?”)

So they would drive to work together, Rowan would head up to his office to prepare whatever they would need for the lesson that morning, and Aelin would pick them both up coffee from the coffee cart. After their lesson, Aelin would go on rounds with the others and Dr. Blackbeak, and then if she was on Rowan’s service that day she would head back to his office.

They didn’t really talk about any of it, and it seemed that Rowan was perfectly happy to leave her be as long as she was going to her therapy sessions, which he would make sure she was doing by meeting her afterwards, coffee in hand.

“You don’t have to meet me outside every time,” she said to him two weeks into their routine, nudging him playfully with her shoulder. “I think we’ve established that I am going.”

“I can stop if you want me to,” he replied.

“No!” she said quickly, too quickly. “I mean… it’s fine if you want to keep meeting me. I wouldn’t want to deprive you of my company.”

Rowan gave her a look as if to say ‘You greatly overestimate the value of your company.’

‘And yet here you are,’ she silently shot back.

He only hummed in response and she smiled, knowing that was as close he would get to admitting that he wanted to be there.


	8. I'm Still Looking (For My Salvation)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this plot line stolen directly from greys anatomy? Hell yes it is. Thank you everyone for all the comments I've been receiving, they really do make my day. Enjoy this chapter and keep those comments coming folks, I have an ego almost as big as Aelin's and it really does need tending to.

Aelin had noticed, in her twenty six years on the planet, that the most important days of her life often started out feeling like any other day. The day the three of them had found out they’d gotten these internships, the day she had gotten into medical school, the day she had met Lysandra, the day Sam had died. All seemingly normal days.

It was a normal day. Rowan had come to pick her up, as he had been doing for weeks.

“Good morning, sunshine,” she greeted as she slid into the front seat.

“Is it?” he replied, cheerful as ever.

“You’re not very pleasant in the mornings, you know that right?”

He started the car, a wry smile on his face.

“I wasn’t aware I was pleasant at any time of day.”

“I don’t know, there’s usually a solid five minutes in the afternoon where you’re pretty tolerable.”

“‘Pretty tolerable’. Aelin, you’ll make me blush,” he said dryly.

Things were still normal when they arrived at the hospital, aside from the fact that they had run out of Aelin’s favorite muffins at the coffee cart. So she got two of her second favourite ones to make herself feel better.

“You eat a disgusting amount of sugar; your teeth are going to fall out one of these days,” Rowan sighed.

She ignored him and tucked into the first muffin, making herself comfortable in what she now viewed as her chair. In fact, when she had walked past Rowan’s office one day and seen someone else sitting in it, she had felt downright territorial.

She had come in early for her lesson with Rowan, as usual, but she wasn’t on his service later that day. She was scheduled to work in the pit. Or, as Rowan insisted she called it, the emergency room. She hated the pit. Sure, sometimes you got an awesome case like the time someone had come in with half a tree sticking right through the middle of him. But nine times out of ten, it was boring stuff like people needing stitches, or the flu.

“Are you sure I can’t persuade you to let me be on your service today?” she whined as Rowan checked his emails, “I’ll do anything.”

She waited until he looked up from his computer and batted her eyelashes at him. Lesser men had handed over their wallets after that trick, but Rowan just looked unimpressed.

“Anything?” he asked, leaning across the desk so far she could have easily leaned forward and kissed him.

Her breath caught in her throat slightly as she nodded silently.

“Hmm,” he breathed. “Wash my car for me and I’ll think about it.” He went back to checking his emails.

“Oh screw you,” Aelin huffed, trying and failing to get her heart to stop beating out a samba.

“Not even if you asked nicely,” he replied.

She kicked him under the desk.

“Stop being a brat just because you don’t want to be doing stitches all day,” he snarled, with no real heat behind it.

If Aelin had been attracted to him, she might have been thinking about all the ways he could have made her stop. But she wasn’t attracted to him. So that was a moot point. No sir, she was not interested in the slightest.

The rest of their morning was uneventful and when they had finished their lesson for the day she headed over to the intern locker room to meet everyone before rounds started.

“Hello my beautiful friends,” she greeted, throwing her arms around the two people closest to her, who happened to be Chaol and Dorian.

“Why are you in such a good mood?” Chaol asked, still looking half asleep.

“I don’t know, it’s a good day.”

“Did you finally get laid or something?” Lysandra called from where she was putting on her scrubs.

“Gross. Can we not talk about my cousin getting laid before 8 in the morning please?” Aedion pleaded.

Aelin looked around at the group in front of her. Despite only knowing Chaol and Dorian for a short amount of time, she felt a swell of love for all of them. These were her people. They were no longer just a group of interns who worked together. The five of them were family.

“We both know I could easily get laid if I wanted to,” Aelin replied to Lysandra. “Have you seen me?” She tossed her long blonde hair over her shoulder, giving them her best impression of a model’s smolder.

They all promptly fell around laughing.

“Assholes,” she muttered, going to her own locker and pulling out her scrubs to change into.

“It’s okay, Aelin.” Dorian shot her a wink. “I would.”

“Thank you, Dorian,” she laughed. “I know you would.”

When they had all finished rounds for the morning, they convened around the nurses station to have their placements for the day confirmed.

“Ashryver and Caraverre, you’re on peds with Dr. Salvaterre today,” Dr. Blackbeak read from her clipboard.

They both rolled their eyes slightly at that. Lorcan Salvaterre was a notorious jackass, even worse than Rowan. To be assigned his service was to be handed a day of misery. Aelin had heard from one of the Ortho residents that he was dating one of the surgical nurses: a sweet, quiet woman named Elide. It had made absolutely zero sense to Aelin until she had seen them together. Elide had that man wrapped around her little finger and she absolutely knew it. Aelin respected the hell out of her. Taming one of the hospital's most difficult attendings? She was her hero.

“Westfall, Havilliard, and Galathynius you’re in the pit,” Dr. Blackbeak said, bringing her back to the task at hand.

Aelin raised her hand in a mock salute.

“Yes ma’am.”

Dr. Blackbeak raised an eyebrow that, had Aelin not had a sneaking suspicion that Manon secretly liked her, would have sent her running.

Just to be on the safe side she quickly turned around and made her way to the pit, Dorian and Chaol close on her heels.

Being in the pit was akin to what Aelin imagined being stuck in purgatory would be like. Already in the three hours since she had arrived, she’d done more stitches than should have been legal and some disgusting drunk man had grabbed her ass when she had gone to take his temperature. He was lucky Aelin had only threatened to remove his hand. If Aedion had been there, the man probably would have been going home with a broken nose.

Aelin internally rolled her eyes, thinking of her cousin’s historic alpha male bullshit. Overprotective didn’t even begin to cover it. He had barged into her room one morning when they were 18 and had found Sam in her bed. Suffice it to say, it had not been pretty. The resulting brawl had been legendary, partly because after they had beaten the shit out of each other, Aelin had pummelled both of them.

It was nice, she mused. After the time she had been spending with her therapist and all the late night conversations with Lys and Aedion, she was finally able to remember Sam fondly ifeeling like her heart was going to be ripped from her chest.

“There’s an ambulance coming into the bay any minute now.” Dorian tapped her on the shoulder.

She blinked and shook her head slightly, bringing herself back to the task at hand. “Okay. Coming now.”

She and Dorian made her way to the ambulance bay, Chaol opting to say in the pit and keep an eye on the floor.

“What do we know?” she asked Dorian as they waited in the chilled morning air for the ambulance to arrive.

“Not much. Male, unconscious and bleeding heavily, origins of injury are unknown.”

She nodded. Hopefully the case might even be Cardiothoracic and Rowan would let her scrub in.

“Dibs if it’s a Cardio case.” She playfully nudged Dorian with her shoulder.

He snorted, knowing full well that if it was a Cardio case there wasn’t a chance in hell of him getting anywhere near it. Aelin had been known to bodycheck anyone who got between her and a Cardio case (it had been one time and Aedion had deserved it.)

She heard the ambulance before she saw it, cringing at the loud intrusive sound of the siren. She didn’t think she’d ever get used to that sound. It still reminded her of the night Sam died.

“Male, 40s, chest wound of unidentified origin,” one of the paramedics told them quickly, jumping out of the ambulance and helping the others start to unload the stretcher.

Aelin could have cackled with delight, a chest wound was almost sure to be related to her favorite organ. Well, second favourite male organ, she smirked to herself, almost laughing out loud at her own joke.

“Mine,” she all but snarled at Dorian who backed up with a grin on his face.

“You’re hot when you steal cases from me,” he called after her as she led the paramedics into the ER.

Shameless flirt.

“Trauma room 2,” she barked at the team.

She followed them into the trauma room. Only then did she notice that one of the paramedics seemed to have their hand inside the chest cavity of her patient.

“Why exactly,” she addressed the young woman, “do you have your hand inside my patient?”

The young woman flushed bright red, but looked up to meet Aelin’s eyes with an almost steely expression. “I tried tamponading the wound with gauze but it just wouldn’t stop, and I figured I could stop it with my hand for a little while. But every time I’ve tried to remove it, he started bleeding out, So I just figured I’d keep it in there.”

A huge sigh came from another of the paramedics, a tall young man with dark hair who was currently glaring slightly at the young woman, who to her credit was glaring right back. “I told her not to,” he snapped. “You never put your hand in a body cavity, Archeron. That’s like first day stuff.”

“Yes, thank you Rhysand. I know that now,” she hissed.

Aelin watched the interaction between them with no small amount of amusement. She would have let them continue to argue, had her patient not had a massive hole in his chest. “Hey.” She snapped her fingers in front of them. “Focus. What’s your name?”

“Feyre,” the woman answered. “I know it was stupid, but he was bleeding so heavily I just figured what the hell.”

“Okay Feyre, I need you to stay still and shut up while I examine the patient.”

The woman nodded. Aelin turned to look at the young man, surprised to see that his angry expression had morphed into one of concern now that the woman wasn’t looking at him. Interesting.

“And you,” Aelin addressed him. “Don’t antagonize her or I’ll make you leave.”

A muscle in his jaw twitched slightly, but he nodded too.

She completed a quick examination, asking one of the nurses to page Dr. Whitethorn so they could take the man up to the OR as soon as possible.

“What’s the situation?” Rowan asked as he strode into the room.

“Patient has absent breath sounds on the right side, air bubbling at the site of the wound and he’s getting slightly cyanotic. We don’t know what caused the wound or whether it’s still inside,” she added. “And he has a paramedic’s hand inside his body.”

Rowan looked at her and then back at the patient, confirming that she was in fact telling the truth. “Why does my patient have a paramedic’s hand inside his body?”

“It was the only way I could stop the bleeding,” Feyre piped up.

Rowan sighed. “Fine, bring the patient and the paramedic up to OR 2. And get Westfall to see if he can find out what caused the wound before you scrub in.”

Aelin nodded and smiled at Feyre slightly. “Looks like you just won an all-expenses paid trip to the OR.”

Feyre swallowed slightly and glanced over to the other paramedic, who looked downright stormy. “I’ll be fine, Rhys,” she said gently. “I’ll see you after.”

The man looked as if he wanted to argue, but instead he walked over and placed a hand on her hers, the one that wasn’t currently inside a body cavity.

“I’ll see you after,” he whispered.

Aelin took that as her cue and got the party moving, telling the nurses which OR to take them to, stopping to pass on Rowan’s message to Chaol.

Rowan was already there by the time she had scrubbed in, speaking to the young woman in hushed tones. “So, once we’ve got the patient anaesthetised I’m going to ask you to slowly remove your hand,” he was telling her when Aelin walked over.

Aelin stood to Feyre’s right, ready to stop the bleeding as quickly as she could when the woman removed her hand.

“Okay everyone,” Rowan said, after they were sure the patient was out cold. “Feyre on the count. One. Two. Three.”

Feyre slowly pulled her hand out of the body cavity, a look of relief crossing her face as she stumbled away from the operating table.

Aelin’s hands were in her place as soon as they physically could be. She tried to stop the bleeding as best she could, but just like Feyre, she found the only way to stop the bleeding fully was with her hand.

“What can you feel, Dr. Galathynius?” Rowan asked

“I can feel something hard,” she replied, wiggling her fingers slightly. “I think whatever caused the injury is still inside the body.”

She was just about to suggest that she pull it out when she heard the OR doors open.

“Everybody stop!” Chaol’s voice filled the room. “Nobody move.”

Aelin froze, looking at Rowan for any signs that he knew what was happening. He looked just as confused as she felt.

“What is it, Dr. Westfall?” Rowan asked, not moving from his spot at the operating table.

Chaol looked around the room and gestured Dr. Whitethorn over.

They began to speak in hushed tones, which Aelin resented because she couldn’t go and ask them what was going on, what with her hand currently stopping her patient from bleeding out.

“What is it?” she asked when neither of them volunteered any information. They were both looking at her with horror. “Gods, what is it?” she asked again, beginning to feel a sense of dread falling over the room.

“Dr. Westfall, I want you to go and tell the charge nurse to call a code black,” was Rowan’s only response.

“A code black, what’s a code black?” Her brain had gone completely blank.

“Aelin.” Rowan walked towards her very very slowly. “Do not move an inch, alright?”

“You’re starting to scare me, what is it?” She looked to the door to see if she could get Chaol to tell her, but he was already gone.

“Aelin,” he whispered. “You cannot move your hand.”

“Why?” she snapped, frantic.

“Because, you have your hand in a body cavity that still has a bomb inside of it.”

Aelin blinked.

Fuck.


	9. You've Got A Friend (In Me)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot believe that I've written 18,000 words of this fic. Writing it and interacting with you guys in the comments has improved my quarantine more than you would believe. It's so nice to feel productive and like I'm actually writing something that people care about. So thanks again for the support everyone. Enjoy this chapter <3

When Aelin was nine years old, she and Aedion had run away. They’d filled a backpack with clothes, trail mix, and books, and they had decided to move into the park around the corner. No matter how hard she thought about it, Aelin couldn’t remember why. Maybe they had been told they weren’t allowed any more ice cream that day, or Rhoe had asked them very nicely to keep the noise down. Whatever it had been, it had apparently been the last straw. So they had run away to the park around the corner.

Aedion had wanted to make their new home under the slide so they’d stay nice and dry if it happened to rain. Aelin had come up with a different plan. She had decided they should climb the tallest tree in the park, the one their parents would never let them climb, and that they should live up in the tree. So she had pulled her overalls up, instructed Aedion to wait at the bottom to pass up their stuff, and began to climb. She’d made it about halfway up the tree when her foot had slipped.

The world halted for the few seconds it took her to fall. She had stopped breathing, the world had stopped turning, even the birds had stopped singing.

That was what Aelin felt like once again, right at that very second. It felt like the world had stopped turning and she was in free fall. Except this time her feet were very firmly on the ground; it was just that her hand was inches away from a bomb that could go off at any second. And she couldn’t move. If her foot slipped, this time it wasn’t just going to end in a broken arm. She could die.

“Aelin. It’s going to be okay,” some part of her brain heard Rowan say quietly.

She wasn’t breathing.

“Aelin,” he said more firmly. “Hey, look at me.”

She dragged her eyes away from the gaping hole her hand was residing in. Rowan looked at her. He was doing his very best to appear calm. But a muscle in his jaw twitched. He always clenched his teeth when he was worried.

“The bomb squad is on their way. They’re going to be here really soon. You just have to keep still until then.”

Aelin didn’t answer. She watched as everyone but her and Rowan left the room.

“You’re sending everyone out,” she said. “Do you think this bomb is going to go off?”

“No,” he replied too quickly. “It’s just a precaution.”

Aelin bit the inside of her cheek and resisted the urge to scream. He was lying. She looked down at her hand. She could ever so slightly feel the bomb with her finger tips.

“You should leave too. Until the bomb squad gets here there’s nothing you can do,” she said quietly.

“Absolutely not. This is my OR,” he snapped, and then added softly, “I’m not leaving you.”

She looked up into his eyes. He was risking his life, just to stay with her and keep her calm. “You’re my friend, you know?” she whispered. “I know I might not be yours. But you should know, you’re my friend and I care about you.”

It was the truth, he was. Somehow, between the first time they’d met, when she had thought he was the biggest asshole on the planet, and now, he had snuck his way into her heart. He was the first person she saw in the mornings, the person she spent the most time with during the day, and the only person who had seen how much she was suffering. He wasn’t just her attending. He was her friend. Maybe even her best friend.

“Stop that right now,” he snapped, which she thought was a pretty rude response to someone calling you their friend.

“Stop what?”

“Stop saying goodbye. Only people who are dying get to make deathbed confessions.”

“So I shouldn’t tell you about what happened on my 16th birthday with Kelly Pearce in the broom closet?”

Rowan laughed, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“If I’m not going to die, someone should tell your face that,” she teased, trying desperately to make him stop looking at her as if he was writing her eulogy. “Tell me a story. Distract me.”

Rowan sighed. “Okay,” he sighed. “I met Lyria when I was an intern like you...“ he glanced at her, as if to ask if he should continue, like she hadn’t been dying to know more since he told her he had been engaged. She nodded as much as she could without moving her body at all.

“She worked at one of the coffee carts down in the foyer of the hospital. She was nice and she was sweet and she was the complete opposite of me in every way. As you know, all interns have a coffee addiction, so I saw her a lot. I had a pathetic crush on her for the first two years I worked at the hospital, but I was so busy I didn’t think it was fair to ask her out.”

Aelin nodded. Interns tend not to make the best romantic partners. You practically live at the hospital and when you’re not at the hospital you’re asleep or thinking about being at the hospital. It’s hard to date someone who is unavailable six out of seven days of the week.

“But one day when I was buying coffee,” Rowan continued, “she looked at me, this quiet shy woman, and she squared herself up and she said _‘Are you ever going to ask me out, or are you going to die of a caffeine overdose first?’_ And that was it. I spent every spare moment I had with her. We moved in together six months later. It wasn’t always easy; she hated how much time I spent at the hospital, and I hated that she didn’t understand. But we were in love. Really in love.

“I proposed on our one year anniversary. A few weeks later, I was supposed to drive her home from the hospital, but I was caught up in research for this clinical trial I had taken on. A clinical trial she had begged me not to take, because it was going to take up a lot of time and we had a wedding to plan. Anyway, I was busy, so I told her to get a cab.”

Rowan paused and took a deep breath. Aelin knew how this story was going to end. She opened her mouth to tell him he didn’t have to tell her the rest but he continued. “A drunk driver hit the cab just outside the hospital. She died on impact. I found out later that she’d been pregnant. I don’t even know if she knew or not.”

Rowan’s eyes were rimmed with unshed silver tears when she looked over at his pain-distorted face. He had lost his future, his child, and fiancee in one fell swoop. Aelin couldn’t even imagine how painful it had been for him, how he had continued to come into the hospital every day.

“Was that distracting enough for you?” Rowan made a poor attempt at a joke, trying to lift some of tension.

“I almost forgot I was about to go boom,” she smiled. “Thank you.” She hoped he knew she didn’t just mean for trying to distract her.

“I’m so sorry that happened to you, Rowan,” she said gently. “I wish I could have met her, she sounds wonderful.”

“She was.”

Just as Aelin was about to reach her free hand across the table, to grab his hand, to comfort him as best she could, the door opened.

Four men in uniform walked into the room. A tall man with short black hair stepped forward. “Cole Danvers, bomb squad. Has the rest of this floor been evacuated?”

Rowan nodded.

“Good.”

The man walked towards Aelin, his keen eyes taking in the scene, flicking over her arm and coming to rest on her face. “What’s your name?” he asked.

“Aelin.”

He didn’t reply, only went back over to his men and began to whisper.

What felt like an eternity passed while they spoke in hushed tones. Rowan’s eyes didn’t leave her face. He was unnaturally still as he watched her.

“Breathe, Aelin,” he said gently as the men continued to whisper.

She took a deep breath in through her nose and out through her mouth.

“Hey Rowan?” she whispered. “If I die, you need to tell Aedion and Lysandra that I love them and that they need to pull their heads out of their asses and go on a date already.”

“Aelin, stop,” Rowan hissed, reaching for her shoulder but pulling back his hand as he realised his mistake.

“No, just listen okay? Tell them I love them. Tell Fenrys he’s been the best friend I’ve made since I moved here and that if he practices maybe one day he’ll be able to beat someone as good as me.”

Rowan looked as if he wanted to ask what Fenrys should be practicing, but she watched as he put two and two together and a disapproving look fell across his face.

“Hey, you can’t tell me off for kickboxing because I could die today,” she quickly said before he could scold her. “You need to tell my parents and Aedion they were the best family I could have wished for, and tell Dorian and Chaol that our little family meant the world to me. Tell-“

“Aelin, please stop,” Rowan pleaded. “You’re not going to die. I’m not gonna let you die.”

“And tell yourself that if I die, there’s nothing you could have done differently. Do not blame yourself if anything goes wrong, you have to promise me.” Rowan didn’t say anything. “Promise me, Rowan.”

He swallowed, and that telltale muscle in his jaw twitched. “I promise.” A strange look fell across his face and he looked as if he was about to say more, but just as he opened his mouth, the bomb squad finally began to move.

Two of them went out into the hallway, and Cole walked back over to her. “Okay Aelin, I’m going to ask you to wrap your hand around the bomb and slowly pull it out. Then I’m going to take it into the hallway, and we’re going to disarm and dispose of it properly.”

Rowan went still again. “Why can’t you pull it out yourself?” he snarled.

Cole looked at Rowan as if he was only just noticing his presence. “Because someone else sticking their hand in there would be unnecessary movement, and it’s better if we keep the movement to a minimum.”

“And what happens if it goes off in her hand,” Rowan snapped.

“Rowan, it’s okay,” Aelin said gently. “I want you to leave now.”

“I am not leaving,” he growled.

“Rowan, please. No point in you dying too.”

Aelin looked at him pleadingly, but he ignored her.

Cole looked between the two of them. “No one is dying. Now, if you two are done with your little lovers’ quarrel, I want to get started.”

Despite the situation, Aelin blushed slightly. Rowan and her, lovers. Ridiculous. She almost corrected the man before reminding herself that there was a time and a place.

Cole went out into the hall to tell the other members of the bomb squad to prepare to receive the bomb. “Okay,” he said when he returned, “count of three.”

Aelin’s eyes met Rowan’s. He smiled grimly. She still wished he would leave, but if she was going to die she was selfishly glad that he was with her.

“One, two, three.”

Aelin breathed in and out. In through the nose, out through the mouth. In through the nose, out through the mouth. The world stopped turning. She kept her eyes on Rowan, letting his presence ground her. She slowly wrapped her hand around the metal object and inch by inch, removed it from the body cavity. She wasn’t sure how long she stood there, not looking away from Rowan, slowly removing the bomb. Before she knew it, it was out, it was in her hand. She was holding a bomb in her hand.

“Okay Aelin, good.” Cole reached out his hands to take the bomb from her. She handed it over as gently as she possibly could.

And then Cole was leaving. She watched as he walked out of the room one tiny step at a time.

Rowan stepped around the table. He took her chin gently in his hand and forced her to look up at his eyes. Aelin exhaled, shoulders collapsing. Rowan wrapped his arms around her. She breathed in the smell of him. Pine and antiseptic a smell that she couldn’t quite place.

He ran a hand over her hair. “I’ve got you,” he whispered in her ear. They stood like that, wrapped around each other until the door opened only moments later, and they quickly broke apart.

“The bomb has been dealt with. Your team is coming back so you can complete the operation.” Cole said, not waiting for a reply before he marched back out of the room.

And that was it. The team came back in. They sewed up the hole the bomb had made and it was like it had never happened.

Except that it had. It had happened and Aelin had thought that she was going to die. After Sam had died, there was nothing she wanted more than to stop existing, but in those moments she had been lifting the bomb out, it had all clicked. Aelin didn’t want to die. Gods, she wanted to live. She wanted to live and love and make the best out of this life that Sam had given her, whatever that meant. In some cruel twist of fate, she had been the one who lived twice now. Twice she had been handed a gift. She wasn’t going to waste it this time around. She was going to _live_. For Sam.

Maybe she and Rowan could learn to live together.

"Hey Rowan," she said as they were scrubbing out. "I meant what I said, I didn't just say it because I thought I was going to die. You're my friend."

"Yeah, Aelin." He smiled. "You're my friend too."


	10. Don't Let Me Go (I'm Tired Of Feeling Alone)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS CHAPTER WAS SO HARD TO WRITE! I feel like it's so important to show Rowan feeling things but it's hard to find the balance between having him show his emotions and him being completely out of character lol. ANyway, enjoy. As usual, comment please or I probably won't write and I am determined to actually finish this fic for the first time ever. All the love x

Funny thing about nearly dying that Aelin hadn’t noticed the first time (maybe because she had been too distracted by the death of the love of her life and whatnot) was that the adrenaline rush was absolutely real. When Sam had died she felt empty, like all of her organs had been removed and replaced with sawdust. But this time, Aelin felt positively high. She felt as if she could lift a truck or climb a mountain. She felt fucking euphoric.

Rowan looked over at her as she practically skipped down the hospital corridor.

The patients in this wing had all been relocated, either to different wings or to other hospitals in the area, so it was eerily quiet as she and the rest of the surgical team walked down to the lobby. There was no sign of the bomb squad as they walked past empty rooms and the abandoned nurse’s station.

“This is creepy,” she whispered to Rowan who was walking by her side.

He smiled, but she could tell he was distracted. The haunted look hadn’t left his face even after the bomb had been removed and they had completed the monumental task of repairing the man who had been the source of all the trouble. She had been told by one of the surgical nurses who had spoken to Chaol that the man was a Civil War re-enactor who had been stupid enough to play with real weapons and didn’t realize his highly anachronistic ammunition was live before it had accidentally been fired at him by a clueless friend.

“It’s over now, you can exhale.” She nudged Rowan with her shoulder.

He sighed and ran a hand through his silver hair. She still hadn’t had the nerve to ask him whether he bleached it or if he had just gone very prematurely grey. That muscle in his jaw was twitching still, and his shoulders were so tense they were practically touching his ears. She had thought at one point during the conversation with Cole that Rowan was going to punch his lights out, and the wild look she had noticed then hadn’t quite left his eyes.

If anyone waiting to see them down in the lobby put one foot out of line she had a feeling that Rowan would lose it completely. His reputation at the hospital was already shaky at best; he had made one intern cry in front of the entire surgical department and no one had ever forgotten it. If he lost it right now, even in light of the bomb, his reputation would be in even further tatters.

She knew Aedion and Lys must be desperate to see her and while she didn’t want to keep them waiting any longer, needed to see them too, but Rowan needed her right then.

She stopped Rowan with a hand on his chest. He stilled, looking at her questioningly. “You guys go ahead,” she told the team. “We’ll catch up in a second, I just want Dr. Whitethorn to check out this cut on my hand really quick.”

She held her hand up quickly, hoping that no one noticed there was nothing wrong with it at all, and pulled Rowan into one of the empty rooms.

“Are you okay? Why didn’t you say something sooner?” Rowan hissed, grabbing her hand and examining it with panicked eyes.

“There’s nothing wrong with my hand,” she said. “You look like you’re about to lose your shit. Just figured you could do with a second to calm down before we have to answer loads of questions.”

Rowan looked as if he was going to argue with her, to tell her that he was fine, or maybe that she was out of line. But instead, to her great surprise, he pulled her into his chest and wrapped his arms around her. She could feel his heart beating too fast and he buried his head in the crook of her neck.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay,” she whispered, bringing her hand up to cradle his head. “Why don’t you sit down?” she suggested gently.

Despite the fact that there were about five chairs and six beds inside the room, Rowan slid to the floor. She sunk down to her knees in front of him and lifted his chin with her hand just as he had done to her back in the operating theatre. She couldn’t read what was happening behind his eyes at all.

“I’m meant to be the one who stays calm in these situations,” he said quietly, taking her hand and lacing their fingers together.

“You did, Rowan. We saved that man’s life.”

He shook his head mutely, eyes darting around the room as though searching for a threat that wasn’t there. That was probably how his adrenaline had manifested, she realized. Fight or flight, and it looked as if Rowan was still ready to fight.

“How the fuck are you so calm?” he asked.

“This isn’t my first rodeo,” she attempted a joke. “I’m an old hand at this near-death experience thing.”

“That’s not funny,” he snapped.

“I know, sorry.”

He took a deep breath, and she watched for a few moments as his shoulders rose and fell, his breath beginning to even out. His facial muscles began to relax, too, as she ran her thumb over his knuckles in an attempt to soothe him further.

“You’re just important to me,” he said so quickly and so quietly she almost didn’t hear him. “I haven’t really had any friends apart from Fenrys since--“

He broke off, but she knew what he was going to say: since Lyria. “You’re my friend and I thought you were going to die and you were going to be another person who mattered to me who was dead and it was going to be my fault again.” He looked up to the ceiling.

“Explain to me exactly how it was your fault.”

Rowan looked back down at her in disbelief. “Are you kidding?” he growled “Of course it was my fault. I’m your attending; I never should have let you stick your hand inside of a body, especially without knowing the contents of said body.”

Aelin sighed. It seemed that she wasn’t the only one who had a tendency to blame themselves for things that weren’t really their fault. For years she had let the idea that Sam’s death was her fault eat away at her. It had tainted every aspect of her life until she was virtually unrecognizable from the person she had been before. Rowan already had Lyria’s death weighing on him; she was not about to let him shoulder the blame for this too.

“Hey,” she said, unlacing their fingers and resting her hand on his cheek. “I already told you: this wasn’t your fault, and you made me a promise not to blame yourself. That doesn’t go away just because I didn’t go boom.”

He let out a shuddering breath, leaning into her hand and nodding slightly.

“There’s no way you could have known about the bomb,” she gently reminded him. “If we had waited to do tests before surgery, that man would be dead.”

Rowan closed his eyes and leaned forward to rest his chin on her shoulder, and she wrapped her arms back around him. It was funny how natural it felt to touch him like this, to be no-holds-barred affectionate. In theory, it should have been weird and slightly awkward to hold her attending as he fought off tears at the thought of losing her. But instead, she felt warm and safe, like they just fit together. Two broken pieces, his jagged edges perfectly matching hers. She couldn’t actually remember the last time she’d been held like this by someone other than Lysandra or Aedion.

“Better?” she asked after a while, scratching her nails gently across his neck.

He practically purred, which she took as a good sign. Men, no better than house cats really.

“We should head down to the lobby now. Everyone will want to see us,” she said, untangling herself from Rowan with no small amount of regret. She rose to her feet, offering him a hand and tugging him up to join her.

“Think you can manage to stay out of trouble for the 3 minutes it takes to walk to the lobby?” Rowan joked, the smile starting to reach his eyes.

“Depends, you mean the good kind or the bad kind?”

“There’s a good kind of trouble?” he asked flatly.

“I’ll have you know I’ve been described as the good kind of trouble.” She grinned and shot him an exaggerated wink.

“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.” He wrapped a casual arm around her shoulders and they began to make their way down to the crowd that was no doubt waiting for them.

Lysandra and Aedion were pacing frantically when they reached the crowded lobby. As soon as she spotted Lysandra, Aelin noticed that her eyes were red and puffy. But before Aelin could launch herself at her, Aedion saw her and grabbed her. His eyes desperately scanned her from head to toe as he held her in front of him at arm's length, searching for any injuries. When he was satisfied there weren’t any, he pulled her into a bone crushing hug.

“You’re okay,” he muttered. It was more of a statement than a question, and she wondered if he was convincing himself rather than asking her. “You’re okay.”

“I’m okay, Aedion,” she reassured him, attempting to step out of his hold so she could hug Lysandra, who looked like she needed it.

He refused to let go, holding her even tighter, which she hadn’t thought was physically possible.

“Aedion,” she gasped, “can’t breathe.”

He released her quickly, giving her an apologetic smile. She thought about how scary it must have been for him, waiting here for any small pieces of news. Waiting to hear whether she was dead or alive. She would have been a complete wreck if she had been in his shoes.

“He punched a wall,” Lysandra whispered in her ear as she pulled her in for a hug, reading her mind as she so often did. “It would have been kinda hot, actually, had we not been so worried you were dead and all.”

Aelin shoved Lysandra away with a giggle. “Don’t ruin my adrenaline high by objectifying my cousin in front of me, Lys. It’s terribly rude,” she laughed. Aedion looked confused but wisely did not ask.

She held open her arms for them both and they sandwiched her in the middle of a slightly sweaty and uncomfortable hug. She would have complained had it not been so good to see them. She was so lucky to have them.

“I love you both,” she mumbled into Aedion’s shoulder.

“We love you,” Lysandra answered, sounding very much like she had started crying again.

Aelin sniffed back the tears that were threatening to spill from her own eyes and glanced around the room, looking for Rowan.

She spotted him speaking to Dr. Ytger and two police officers. He gestured her over and she extracted herself from the grips of Lysandra and Aedion to walk towards them.

Upon the police officers request she recounted her day from start to finish, from the moment the ambulance had arrived, down to what the bomb had looked like. She suspected she wasn’t telling them anything they didn’t already know, but she was happy to help in any way she could.

“I think this was just an unhappy accident,” she told them when she’d finished.

“We spoke to the friend who was also involved in the re-enactment, sounds like nobody knew the bomb could still be active. Doesn’t seem malicious at all, just stupid. We’ll contact you if we need to ask you any more questions, but that’s all for now,” one of the police officers told her and Rowan.

“No problem officer,” Rowan answered.

Aelin smiled at Rowan in reassurance as the officers left.

“Both of you go home,” Dr. Ytger told them. “Get some rest, you’ll both need to speak to someone on the mental health team before you get back work tomorrow.”

Rowan’s shoulder brushed hers as they walked back over to Lysandra and Aedion. She was grateful for his proximity. He grounded her, counteracting the adrenaline high that she was beginning to feel overwhelmed by. She stepped closer to him, pressing their shoulders together more and his fingers brushed against her own. She shivered slightly.

“Pizza?” Aedion asked her. “My treat.” 

She looked up at Rowan. “Only if McGrumpy comes,” she answered, bumping his shoulder.

Lysandra and Aedion looked at her in surprise, but neither of them argued. She supposed nearly dying allowed her to invite an unwanted guest to pizza night.

“Having pizza with the interns. Sounds inappropriate,” he sighed, in the kind of tone that implied he was going to do it anyway.

“Couldn’t make your reputation any worse,” she quipped.

He sighed again, resigned. “Fine. Only if it’s okay with you both.” He looked to her roommate and her cousin with what might have been a sheepish smile on someone who wasn't over six foot tall and slightly terrifying (to anyone who didn't actually know him).

They nodded unconvincingly, but when Aelin shot them a slight glare they quickly made their performances more believable.

“Lovely. Rowan can drive me and you can drive Lys, and we’ll meet back home.”

“I am so full,” Aelin groaned a few hours later, surrounded by empty pizza boxes.

“That happens when you eat enough to feed a family of four,” Rowan answered from his spot next to her on the sofa.

Aedion and Lysandra had disappeared about an hour or so ago. It seemed Aelin’s near death experience had prompted them to finally pull their heads out of their asses without her even telling them to do so. Or at least that’s what she assumed, based on the noises she had heard coming out of Lysandra’s room when she had gone to use the bathroom.

“A family of four?” she exclaimed “That was only enough to feed two at a push.”

Rowan rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. She stretched out her aching legs and plonked them into his lap. He raised an eyebrow but didn’t push her away. It seemed that casual affection was going to be a part of their relationship going forward whether he liked it or not.

“I should go,” he said. “It’s pretty late.”

Aelin’s heart jumped. She didn’t want him to leave. She wasn’t sure if it was simply a response to the fact that they had been through something traumatic together, or something else entirely, but she couldn’t think of anything worse than him leaving her alone.

“Can you stay?” she asked quietly “I don’t want to be alone.”

Rowan stilled. She knew it was inappropriate on so many levels, and it definitely crossed a massive boundary, but what was one night of comfort between friends?

He looked poised to leave, but he turned to her instead. “Just this once,” he said gently.

“And no funny business,” she joked, trying to lift some of the tension that had settled between them.

Rowan’s eyes narrowed, but he huffed out a laugh. He stood up, offering Aelin a hand, and they walked up to her bathroom, where she found a new unopened toothbrush for him to use. They were both quiet as they headed to her room, where Aelin turned away from him and pulled on her pajamas. When she turned back he had pulled off his trousers, opting to sleep in his t-shirt and boxers. She was glad for the cover of darkness as she blushed like a teenager. They both climbed into bed, clinging to their respective sides, keeping as much space between them as they could.

“Why am I not surprised that you own pink silk pajamas?” Rowan asked the darkness.

“Are you calling me predictable?” she gasped in mock offence.

“Most definitely not.”

“Good night, Rowan.”

“Good night, Aelin.”

She smiled as she drifted off to sleep to the sound of Rowan’s even breaths, feeling the warmth of his body next to hers.

When they woke up the next morning, Rowan’s arms were wrapped tightly around her, one around her waist and the other hand tangled in her hair. They didn’t speak about it of course, but Aelin basked in the memory of his arms around her for the rest of the day. Plus, she was sure she had caught Rowan smiling at her fondly as he had woken up.


	11. My Ghost (Where'd You Go?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is one reason and one reason only for how quickly I wrote this chapter. And that is simply because jealous and protective Rowan is my favourite kind of Rowan. This is only the start though, next chapter it's gonna get real juicy. Thank you all for the lovely comments on my last chapter, they really do make my day. Hope you're all staying sane and happy if you're in quarantine like me. All the love, enjoy the chapter <3

Aelin was twenty-six years old. She had an MD and a PhD. She was tall, blonde, blue-eyed, and gorgeous. She had recently pulled a bomb out of a body cavity and survived. And she was currently hiding in a closet.

Yeah, it didn’t make much sense to her either.

She had been having a perfectly fine day prior to the closet hiding. For once the sun was shining, a rarity in Seattle. She’d had a full night’s sleep, and her hair had cooperated. She’d even persuaded Rowan to swing by Dunkin for her sugar hit rather than the cart in the lobby, which, although convenient, was not exactly high quality. The muffins from the cart were usually stale and the coffee was always burnt. But this morning she had strode into Rowan’s office with a non-burnt coffee and a whole box full of sweet sweet sugary goodness. Rowan himself had even seemed to be in a good mood. Their lesson had gone by uneventfully, unless you counted Aelin getting distracted by Rowan’s incredibly dexterous hands (he had really nice hands, sue her). She was almost sure he’d noticed this time as her breath hitched thinking about all the things he could do with those nimble fingers, but he mercifully had not commented. 

When she had entered the locker room before rounds the interns were all abuzz.

“What’s everyone furtively whispering about?” she asked Chaol as she sat down next to him on the bench, offering him a donut but secretly hoping he’d decline.

Sadly, he didn’t, and he grabbed one of her favourite triple chocolate donuts gleefully.

“Some surgeon is visiting today,” he mumbled, mouth already half full. “A Cardio surgeon, actually.”

Aelin sat up straighter. Rowan was obviously the best Cardiothoracic teacher she could have asked for, but it never hurt to watch another expert at work, maybe even to impress another expert. She loved to watch Cardiothoracic surgeons, it was like watching artists. Each of them had their own individual signatures and flourishes that Aelin eagerly drank in, adding her favourites to her own repertoire.

She wondered who was visiting and why Rowan hadn’t mentioned it. Knowing him, he probably didn’t know, as tuned into the hospital gossip he was not. Hopefully they were here for a really awesome surgery that Aelin could assist on, or at the very least observe. She silently thanked the stars that she wasn’t on Rowan’s service that day, since she would have felt bad abandoning him for another Cardio surgeon. She would have done it, obviously, but she would have felt bad about it.

“Dang it, Westfall,” Dorian tutted from where he stood at his locker, clearly eavesdropping. “For once I knew something about Cardio that Aelin didn’t, and you told her for one measly donut? Shame on you.”

Aelin held out the box to Dorian tauntingly. “You can have one too if you tell me everything you know,” she smirked. "I'll even throw in a kiss on the cheek to sweeten the deal."

“Alas,” Dorian sighed dramatically and let Aelin plant a smacking kiss on his cheek, “you know my weaknesses. He’s here for a CABG, but I heard from one of the scrub nurses that he knows one of the interns. Found out they were doing their intern year here and came to see them.”

“And how,” Aelin asked with a raise of her eyebrow, “do the scrub nurses know that?”

Dorian shrugged and tucked into a donut, thankfully not one of the triple chocolate ones.

Aelin looked around the room furtively, wondering which one of the interns would she have to suck up to. Hopefully one of the male ones; a twirl of her hair and a bat of her eyelashes and most of them would probably give her their social security number. If she played her cards right, she could snag herself lunch or even dinner with the visiting Cardio surgeon without even breaking a sweat.

She vaguely listened as Dorian and Chaol chatted away about the hot pharmacist as they walked to the nurse’s station to meet Dr. Blackbeak. Lysandra and Aedion were running late for reasons she didn’t even want to think about. They hadn’t actually told her yet that they were together, but since Aedion seemed to be spending every night at the house recently, she figured an announcement was due soon.

She was happy for them; they had been dancing around each other for so long, and they both deserved to be happy. She had always suspected that the reason they hadn’t gotten together sooner was because of her. Maybe because they thought she was too fragile after Sam, or because they didn’t want to ruin the dynamic. Either way, she was glad they seemed to be making a go of it, even if they were insisting on pretending that they weren’t.

“Good morning, Dr. Blackbeak,” Dorian greeted their stone-faced resident with an easy grin. “Beautiful day, isn’t it?”

“Ravishing,” she replied flatly. “You’re all with me today--“ She broke off, apparently noticing the absence of two of her interns. “Where are Dumb and Dumber?” she snapped.

As if by magic, Lysandra and Aedion came running down the corridor, Lysandra still pulling her scrubs over her head.

“Sorry, sorry,” Aedion panted. “Traffic.”

Manon looked deeply unimpressed, but for some reason known only to herself took a deep breath and continued with her instructions for the day. Maybe because of this visiting surgeon, no yelling at the interns where he might see.

“As I was saying,” Manon continued, “you’re all with me today, and we are assisting the visiting Cardiothoracic surgeon.”

Aelin raised her hand to ask who it might be but she was pointedly ignored.

Manon gestured for them to follow her and they all began to make their way down to the chief’s office, no doubt to give the visiting surgeon a warm welcome. As they were rounding the corner to the office, Rowan appeared next to her.

“Ah,” she purred, “so you’re being forced to suck up to this guy, too. He must be much more impressive and important than you.”

Rowan rolled his eyes and pinched her shoulder. She yelped and shoved him away, earning her a glare from Dr. Blackbeak.

“Terribly behaved, these interns,” Rowan shrugged innocently, the very picture of a mature and sensible attending.

Aelin shoved him again the moment that Dr. Blackbeak looked away.

“Hey now.” He grabbed by the wrist playfully before she could do any real damage. “If you’re mean to me I won’t tell you who the visiting surgeon is.”

“I’m surprised you know at all,” Aelin replied primly. “Clearly they’re trying to replace you, and who can blame them? Your surgeries have been positively sloppy recently.”

Rowan huffed out a laugh at the same moment Aelin looked up towards the glass windows of the chief’s office and, upon laying eyes on the man inside, immediately ducked inside the nearest supply closet.

So here she was, inside a closet.

“Aelin?” Rowan knocked on the door. “You do realise this is a closet?”

“Funny, I hadn’t noticed,” she hissed, opening the door a crack and pulling him inside.

“Well, this is cozy.” He quirked an eyebrow at her, standing so close she could feel his breath on her cheeks. “Care to explain why we’re inside a closet?”

“No?”

“Well then,” Rowan went to open the door but she grabbed his arm before he could.

“Um, I… the visiting surgeon and I. We have a… past,” she admitted, as if that covered what had occurred between them at all.

“Romantically?” Rowan’s voice dropped a few octaves into what might have been described as a growl.

“If you can call it that.”

Aelin had met Arobynn Hamel at Stanford. He had been her professor, what a cliché. She was on a complete downward spiral after Sam’s death, and spent her first two years sleeping her way through the campus and drinking enough to kill an elephant most nights. She was drowning, and so desperate for a lifeboat that she hadn’t noticed her lifeboat was shaped like a shark.

He had convinced her that she needed him, that without him she would fail out of Stanford, that without him she would lose the opportunity that Sam had died to protect. She had thought that he loved her, and maybe he did in his own sick and twisted way.

Whatever had been between them, love or not, had been toxic and had nearly ruined her medical career. If anyone had found out she was sleeping with her professor, her reputation would have been in tatters and he would have gotten off scot free. Their toxic on-and-off whirlwind of a relationship had only ended when Aelin had moved to study for her PhD at Berkeley, which was also when she had finally told Aedion and Lysandra about what had transpired between them. They blocked his number from her phone and Lysandra had keyed his car. She hadn’t seen or heard from him since.

“Aelin,” Rowan growled, breaking her out of her reverie, “were you sleeping with him while you were at Stanford? Do you have any idea what that could have done to your career?”

“It was complicated, okay?” she half whispered, half hissed.

Rowan gave her a look as if to say ‘Make it uncomplicated.’

“It was after Sam died, and I thought he loved me. It was really toxic and I regret it.”

Rowan looked as if he was about to berate her more, but the door swung open and the small closet filled with light.

“Darling,” a voice purred, “you wouldn’t be hiding from me, would you? And who’s this? Moved on, have you? An attending, how scandalous.”

Aelin squared her shoulders and raised her chin defiantly to look Arobynn in the eyes. “Hello, Dr. Hamel. It’s been a long time,” she said coolly.

He tutted, giving her a leering once over, eyes briefly flicking over Rowan dismissively. “Now, is that really how you greet an old friend?” he sighed, opening his arms for a hug.

Aelin’s stomach dropped, and she felt as if she might be sick. Being civil with him was one thing; she was a different person now, stable enough to deal with him. But hugging him, being surrounded by his scent...

“Dr. Hamel, I don’t believe we’ve been introduced,” Rowan cut in, sticking his hand out to be shaken.

Aelin shot him a look of gratitude.

_‘This conversation isn’t over,’_ his eyes said.

“And you are?” Arobynn asked disdainfully, but shook Rowan’s hand nonetheless.

“Dr. Whitethorn, head of Cardiothoracics here at Mercy West.”

“Rowan Whitethorn? I followed your clinical trial a few years ago. Injecting tumors with viruses to shrink them, genius.” He looked at him with surprise, at least having the decency to look slightly embarrassed for his earlier disrespect.

“Thank you,” Rowan said coldly. “Now, if you’ll excuse Dr. Galathynius and I, we have a very important case to attend to.”

“Ah,” Arobynn sighed, “I had been hoping to borrow Aelin for the day.”

Aelin looked over to Aedion and Lysandra as she and Rowan stepped out of the closet. It looked as if Lysandra was currently persuading Aedion not to beat the shit out of their former professor. Thank the gods for Lysandra, the last thing she needed today was to feel responsible for her cousin being fired.

“I’m afraid I simply cannot spare her,” Rowan replied, practically squaring up with Arobynn. Godsdamn men and their pissing contests.

“Well Aelin, perhaps if your boyfriend can spare you, you’ll join me for lunch.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Aelin said evenly, willing her face to stay neutral, “and I’m afraid I don’t have much of an appetite.”

Arobynn sighed. The same way he always had when he wasn’t getting his way, as if he knew that he would wind up getting what he wanted in the end. Not this time, though. She was no longer a broken young woman who would do exactly as he wished. She was a relatively mentally stable adult. She wouldn’t be running into the arms of Arobynn Hamel. In fact, the only person she’d be running to was her therapist. She couldn’t wait to tell Morrigan all about this shit show.

“Hmmm, you will find some time for us to catch up, won’t you Aelin?” He cocked his head. “I’d love for you to come and observe my coronary bypass artery graft. You always loved to watch me work.”

Aelin swallowed bile.

“We’ll see if we have time,” Rowan said through gritted teeth, grabbing Aelin’s arm and practically dragging her away. “Now if you’ll excuse us.”


	12. Would You Bleed (For Me)?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here it is, the chapter that you've all been waiting for, the reason I started writing this fic in the first place, jealous and possessive Rowan is here y'all. Yet again thank you all for the support on the last chapter, I love that some of you regularly comment on most chapters and I get to reply and we get to interact and it's all swell and great. I love you all

Rowan slammed the door of his office shut behind them as he stormed into the room.

“If you yell at me right now I will lose it,” Aelin warned, leaning against the closed door.

Rowan exhaled and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“I’m not going to yell at you,” he sighed.

“Good, because you have no right and it would be really unfair to yell at me for something I did when I was twenty and stupid,” she snapped.

“That is exactly why I’m angry,” Rowan growled. “Because you were twenty and stupid and in mourning. He took advantage of you.”

Aelin blinked in surprise. He was angry at Arobynn, not her. She had underestimated Rowan. Of course he saw right through the situation and identified the problem without it being spelled out for him. Even Aedion had blamed her to begin with, asking how she could have been so stupid. He had taken it back pretty quickly after being on the receiving end of both Aelin and Lyandra’s wraths, but the sentiment had stuck there.

But Rowan wasn’t angry at her, he was being protective. A warm feeling spread throughout her body and she smiled slightly.

“I’m angry at myself, because I barely managed to walk away from that interaction without punching his smug fucking face,” Rowan admitted.

Aelin tried not to think about Rowan punching Arobynn in the face. _That would not be hot_ , she told herself. Gods, she was in such deep shit.

“I haven’t seen him in years. It didn’t end well,” Aelin told him as she threw herself onto the couch.

Rowan took a deep breath and sat down next to her. She could smell the pine scent that always clung to him and let it wash over her, calm her.

“Sounds like it didn’t start well,” he said.

“That’s an understatement,” Aelin huffed out a small humourless laugh. “He was a manipulative, emotionally and psychologically abusive piece of shit, and I had really hoped I’d never have to see him again. I don’t know how he even found me.”

Rowan placed a comforting hand on her knee. She resisted the urge to shiver. His hand was so large it enveloped her entire knee. She desperately tried to focus on the situation at hand. _No, not at hand, the current situation. Nothing to do with hands._

“What do you want to do?” he asked gently.

“Nothing. I avoid him for the day, he leaves, I never have to see him again.”

“You think that’ll work?” Rowan asked incredulously.

“You don’t think it will?”

Rowan said nothing, but she could tell he didn’t agree with her plan.

“Well, have you got a better idea?” she snapped.

“Let me break his nose?” he asked flatly.

“If anyone gets to break his nose,” she smiled with no joy behind it, “it’s me.”

She and Rowan agreed to keep to themselves for the day. Hiding really did seem to be the best option whether Rowan agreed or not. He had an easy surgery on the board so she agreed to prep the patient and Elide, the sweet surgical nurse, had agreed to keep an eye on the floor and page her if she saw even a glimpse of Arobynn.

Aelin made a mental note to buy Elide the biggest bunch of flowers she could find as she checked the vitals of the sleeping patient. Or more like re-checked them, since she was really just biding time until she could hide in the OR with Rowan. Maybe if she pretended she was really, really sad he’d actually let her touch a scalpel. Unlikely, considering Rowan was infuriatingly immune to her charms.

She’d never met anyone who seemed as uninterested in her as he did. Sure, they were friends and all, but that never usually mattered. Fenrys was her friend, and he checked her out at least once a day. Dorian was her friend, and he flirted with her like he was being paid for it. She knew Rowan wasn’t over Lyria, and it wasn’t like she was in love with him or anything, but an acknowledgment that she was female every now and again would have been nice. It was damaging to her ego to be ignored totally by the man she spent the most time with. Her ego though, she acknowledged, could probably do with a small amount of deflating.

She was debating the pros and cons of having obscenely unshakeable self-confidence when Elide skidded in.

“Hide,” she warned.

Aelin swore, colourfully enough that a sailor might have blushed, and ducked into the bathroom. For the second time that day she was hiding in an enclosed space from her ex-boyfriend. Life was cruel sometimes. She pulled her pager out of her scrubs pocket with ever so slightly shaking hands. Sure, the stakes weren’t particularly high: if Arobynn found her she’d probably be forced to have lunch with him. But the thought of spending any time with him at all made her sick to her stomach.

She paged Rowan quickly, hoping that he wasn’t very far away, and tried not to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of her situation.

“Good afternoon, Dr. Hamel,” she heard Elide greet as footsteps came from the other side of the door. “Can I help you at all?” Elide was incredibly good at sounding innocent; Aelin made another mental note to stay on her good side. Convincing faux innocence could be useful for any future schemes she might find herself involved in.

“I’m looking for Dr. Galathynius; someone told me she was in this room,” she heard Arobynn reply.

Someone had ratted her out. Then again, she supposed, they had no reason not to tell him where she was. No one knew about their past, and she intended to keep it that way. If it came out, even now, her reputation could be ruined. Female students who slept with their professors usually weren’t very well respected, and it counted double for doctors. Never mind the completely sexist double standards behind that logic. Arobynn deserved to be fired and shunned for his abuse of power. But in all likelihood, if anything came out, it wouldn’t affect him at all and she’d be left to pick up the pieces of her career.

More footsteps entered the room and Aelin pressed her ear against the door to hear who it was, hoping for Rowan.

“Ah, Dr. Whitethorn,” Arobynn sneered. “Have you seen your intern? I was hoping you’d decided to free her for lunch with me.”

She could picture the look of disdain on Rowan’s face as he answered. She loved it when he cut people down to size with one look, so long as it wasn’t her on the receiving end. “Can’t say I’ve seen her. You know, usually when Aelin wants to do something, she does it. Perhaps she doesn’t want to have lunch with you. Had you considered that?”

“You seem to be awfully concerned with Aelin’s desires, for someone claiming not to be her boyfriend. Am I missing something?” Arobynn asked coldly.

_A heart, a soul, the ability to not be selfish in bed,_ Aelin thought bitterly.

“Just the qualities Aelin wants in a lunch date, apparently,” Rowan replied.

She hoped that Arobynn was looking suitably affronted by that response. She wished she could see him struggling to formulate a witty response and clearly falling short, judging by the uncomfortable silence emanating from the other room.

“Well, if you see her, tell her I was looking for her,” Arobynn said finally.

She waited for Rowan to tell her the coast was clear and listened as Arobynn stormed out of the room.

“I think he likes me,” Rowan deadpanned as he opened the bathroom door.

“You should ask him to lunch, I hear he’s looking for a lunch date,” Aelin replied, walking out of the bathroom and flicking her eyes over to her patient. Still asleep, thankfully.

“Hmmm you’re funny,” Rowan flicked her on the nose. “If this whole surgeon thing doesn’t work out, you should consider a career in comedy.”

Aelin shot him a mocking smile and made a crude gesture. He flipped her off right back.

She noted Elide’s absence and hoped she hadn’t run off to tell her boyfriend all about the tension she’d just witnessed between the visiting surgeon and Dr. Whitethorn as they discussed Aelin Galathynius. That was the last bit of gossip she needed getting out, though Lorcan Salvaterre didn’t exactly seem to be the gossiping type.

She and Rowan walked down to the OR together, thankfully avoiding Arobynn along the way. She did spot Elide though, who shot her a conspiratorial wink. They could be very good friends, Aelin thought, especially if she was inclined to continue to do odd favors without asking any questions. She gave the girl a grateful smile and followed Rowan into the scrub room to prepare for the procedure.

It was a straightforward mitral valve repair, so the surgery went by very quickly and without a hitch. Rowan had been worried that a repair wasn’t going to be sufficient and they would have to perform a valve replacement, but the tissue had been salvageable so a repair was all that was needed. Aelin had even been allowed to help rebuild the flap that opened and closed the valve. All in all, a successful surgery.

“Let me drive you home tonight, please? And before you start, don’t give me a lecture about how you’re perfectly capable of looking after yourself. Just for once, just do what I ask without argument,” Rowan asked in a low voice as they were scrubbing out. He only ever drove her in the mornings, Aedion or Dorian nearly always drove her home.

She considered arguing, but it was sweet, really, how concerned he was for her safety. She knew that she was fully capable of kicking Arobynn Hamel’s ass. Whether she was physically capable and whether she was mentally capable were two different questions, though. Arobynn had always had some twisted hold on her. That was why it had taken her so godsdamn long to leave him. It would probably be a good idea for Rowan to drive her home, just to be on the safe side.

“Okay. I need to go get changed and then I’ll meet you in the lobby?” she replied, drying her hands.

Rowan nodded and she hurried out of the scrub room, heading up to the locker room. No sign of Arobynn on her way there, thank gods. Though really, even if she had run into him, what was he going to do in a crowded hospital? Nothing, if he knew what was good for him.

That was the problem though, wasn’t it? she thought dryly. Arobynn never had known what was good for him.

She managed to gather her things to take home for the night and get changed without any incident, telling Lysandra and Aedion she’d meet them at home to debrief. She felt lighter with every step closer to the lobby. She had survived the day with only one very brief conversation with Arobynn, Lysandra had managed to prevent Aedion from hurting him, and hopefully now Arobynn would see her leave with her very attractive attending and leave her alone forever. Rowan was a very large man after all, much more physically imposing than Arobynn, and to top it all off, he was a better and more respected surgeon too. Aelin would have even gone as far as to say she felt a bit smug as she walked through the halls. Never mind the fact that she had told Arobynn that Rowan wasn’t her boyfriend, she was sure his jealous mind would put the pieces he thought he had together anyway, and if it encouraged him to forget all about her, she wasn’t about to correct him again.

She entered the empty elevator and pressed the button for the lobby, pulling her phone out of her bag to check her emails. She was waiting on a package of books she’d ordered to arrive, and pulled up her inbox to see if there was a shipping confirmation yet. The doors of the elevator were just about to close when a figure stepped inside. She looked up from her phone and her stomach dropped. Arobynn stood in front of her.

“Now my dear, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you’d been avoiding me,” he purred.

The doors closed. Aelin was trapped inside a small metal box with him. She took a calming breath. She would not let him know that he affected her.

“That’s because I have been,” she replied, raising her gaze to look him in his cold eyes. “Usually when a woman moves to another state to avoid you, it’s a pretty good sign she doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore.”

Arobynn tutted, reaching out a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. She resisted the urge to gag. “Don’t lie, Aelin. You’ve missed me, haven’t you?”

“Like a hole in the head,” she smiled sweetly.

His face dropped. She stepped backwards, trying to put some distance between them. Surely the doors would open again soon. As if he had read her mind, Arobynn turned around and hit the elevator emergency stop button behind him. She started to panic slightly, her heart beating so loudly she was sure he would hear it.

“There, that’s better.” He smiled, stepping towards her. “Now we have more time to talk.”

Aelin swallowed. She could easily physically overpower him long enough to escape, she reminded herself. She was in no physical danger. She silently thanked Sam for all the self-defense moves he had taught her alongside the kickboxing.

“So,” Arobynn placed a hand either side of her shoulders on the wall, essentially blocking her in, “you and Dr. Whitethorn? You always did like powerful men, didn't you?”

“That’s none of your fucking business,” Aelin spat out, shoving him away.

He growled and jerked towards her, hitting the wall beside her head with a closed fist. She jumped in shock, tears springing to her eyes. She willed them not to fall; she would not let him see her cry. Not anymore, not ever again.

“You ungrateful bitch,” he snarled. “You wouldn’t have a career at all if it weren’t for me.”

Aelin went to step around him, but he stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. He dug his nails into her exposed skin and she yelped in pain. She tried to shake him off and reach for the panel to get the elevator moving again. He grabbed her wrist before she could and pulled her against his chest. He smelled like stale cigarettes and almonds, a smell so painfully familiar it almost brought her to her knees.

“You are nothing without me,” he whispered in her ear.

“Funny, because _you are nothing to me_ ,” she hissed, reaching with her other hand for the panel while he was distracted. She stretched out her shaking fingers and managed to hit the button.

She felt the elevator begin to move again, but clearly Arobynn was too angry to notice.

“I made you,” he snarled, grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking it back, forcing her to look him in the eyes. There was nothing behind them. No kindness, no trace of the person she once had thought loved her.

Just as she was about to drive her knee into his crotch, the doors opened. Arobynn sprang away from her. Clearly, he didn't want an audience.

But it was too late. Rowan had already seen him from where he was waiting, watching the elevators for Aelin. He had seen him grabbing at her, and he was storming towards the elevator with a look that suggested that Arobynn was going to be lucky to leave the hospital with his head still attached to his body.

It was as if she was watching in slow motion as Rowan grabbed Arobynn by his collar and threw him out of the elevator and onto the floor of the lobby. He threw himself on top of him, grabbing him by the neck again and punching him squarely in the face. Arobynn attempted to fight back, but he was no match for Rowan who had at least twenty pounds and half a foot on him. She watched, half in horror and half in glee, as Rowan indeed slammed his fist repeatedly into Arobynn’s smug fucking face.

“Okay, okay! Rowan!” she yelled. “You’re going to damage your hands.” She grabbed him by the arms and pulled him up and away from the other man.

Rowan looked at her, eyes wild and chest heaving. Arobynn had managed to get one decent hit in, and blood dripped from a cut on his lip. She reached up and gently wiped it away with her thumb.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “Look at me, I’m okay.”

His eyes scanned her, and he took a deep breath. He wiped away some of the tears on her face that had fallen as Arobynn had tugged at her hair. Rowan then turned around to look at the man who had been pulled off the floor by some of the bystanders who had gathered to watch Seattle’s most reputable surgeon involved in a tawdry fist fight.

“You come within five feet of her ever again,” he snarled at Arobynn, “and you’ll regret it.”

Arobynn had the good sense not to answer as he wiped at the blood gushing from his nose.

Rowan wrapped an arm around Aelin’s shoulders and steered her away from the crowd and towards the hospital doors. Great, she thought, the rumor mill was going to be working overtime tomorrow. Tucked into Rowan’s side, though, she couldn’t really bring herself to care.

“Come on.” He kissed the top of her head. “Let’s go, you can ice my poor hands.”

Aelin paused as they reached the middle of the parking lot. She looked up at Rowan, the moonlight catching on his already silver hair. His cheekbones stood out even more in the dim light, and he gave her a half smile, wincing as it pulled at the cut on his lip. He was so beautiful.

"I wanted to kill him when I saw him hurting you like that,” he whispered to her.

She raised herself up on her tiptoes and brushed her lips against his cheek. She could have sworn she felt him shiver slightly. But when she looked up at him, his face gave no indication that she had affected him in any way at all.

"I'm glad you didn't." She tucked her hand into his. "I'd miss you a lot if you got sent to prison."

Rowan squeezed her hand and she knew it meant _‘I'd miss you too.’_

"I don't think I could do this without you," she admitted.

"I think you could do anything you set your mind to, Aelin." He reached up and caressed her cheek.

"I wouldn't want to without you," she whispered, a confession perfect for the cover of darkness.

Rowan squeezed her hand again. She didn't know what it meant that time. She didn't dare to ask.


	13. Without Your Kisses (I'll Be Needing Stitches)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like posting chapters just before I go to bed because then when I wake up in the morning I have loads of messages in my inbox and it's just a really nice way to start the day. ANYWAY, i lowkey don't like this chapter lol but quite a few of you wanted to see Aelin tending to Rowan's wounds and you ask I DELIVER BABY. Enjoyyyyy <3

Aelin had never regretted not learning how to drive. She was surrounded by people who had, and who were perfectly happy to ferry her to the places she needed to go. But watching Rowan wince as he gripped the steering wheel, as the blood sprang from his bruised and split knuckles, she really wished she had learned to drive.

“You can stay at mine tonight,” he told her firmly as they drove out of the hospital parking lot. “Tell Lysandra to stay with Aedion.”

Aelin nodded mutely and reached for her phone to text Lys. She watched as Rowan gripped the steering wheel so tightly it must have been causing him pain. When Sam used to fight in competitions, he would be wound up so tightly after a match that he used to run a couple of miles and then take a cold shower just to calm down. Rowan was good at pretending to be okay, but she knew him well enough to see everything that was bubbling under the surface.

“You don’t have to pretend to be calm,” she told him quietly.

He exhaled and flexed his fingers. She couldn’t see his face clearly in the dimness of the car but she was sure if she could she would see that his teeth were clenched.

“If I don’t try and stay calm,” he said, not taking his eyes off the road, “then I’ll turn this car around and give him a couple more broken bones to match that broken nose.”

Aelin swallowed. She placed her hand gently onto one of his clenched fists. He let out a shuddering breath.

“Was he always like that?” he asked, turning to look at her briefly, eyes flashing with anger. “Did he used to hurt you?”

“Only once,” Aelin exhaled sharply. “Once, and I left the next day. He liked to play games. though. He made me think that he was the only one who would love me after what had happened with Sam, that he was the only one who would accept me after what I had done. I was so broken that I believed him. I was grateful that he wanted me even though I was a monster. “

“If he ever comes near you again I’ll kill him,” Rowan snarled.

She looked at the man next to her. The man who had heard her story and told her she wasn’t broken, who waited for her outside her therapy sessions, who had been the first person to tell her it wasn’t her fault.

She was hit with an overwhelming feeling of gratitude for him. Not the sick and twisted version of gratitude she had felt towards Arobynn, but the kind where she wanted to look up at the stars and tell them how fucking lucky she felt to know him. He had rescued her.

She had fully accepted the half version of life she had been living before, resigned herself to a life of tequila and sleepless nights. He had saved her. It wasn’t surviving the bomb that made her want to live, she realized. It was the fact that Rowan was by her side. She wanted to tell him that, but she’d done enough confessing for one night. Instead she sniffed away the tears that were threatening to fall.

“How are your hands?” she asked.

He flexed his fingers again, wincing as the skin pulled.

“Sore,” he replied flatly.

They drove the rest of the way in comfortable silence, Rowan’s shoulders becoming less and less tense the more distance they put between them and the hospital. She was glad he was keeping his eyes on the road, because she couldn’t drag her eyes away from his face as it was illuminated by the streetlights they drove under. There was a drop of blood blooming on his lip, and she willed herself not to think about licking it off.

It wasn’t her fault, really, that she was thinking about Rowan that way, in light of that evening’s events. It was just the way her brain had been wired after Sam. The best sex Sam and she had ever had was after his first big fight after they had started dating. He had won, and climbed off the stage all sweaty and bloody, threw her over his shoulder and took her straight to his dressing room. Suffice it to say, they hadn’t emerged for a while. That was always a surefire way for Sam to work off the post-fight aggression, and she certainly hadn’t ever complained. So, really, it was only logical that after seeing Rowan beat someone to a pulp, she was thinking about asking him to pull the car over and climbing into his lap. Gods, she was so fucked up.

Just as she was about to suggest that Rowan drop her off at Aedion’s instead, just in case she was unable to keep her hands to herself, they pulled into his parking spot. He killed the engine and turned to look at her.

“You have really got to stop getting in life threatening situations,” he laughed darkly. “I don’t know how many more I can handle.”

“I was not in life-threatening danger today. Arobynn’s a bastard but he’s not that dangerous.”

Rowan cocked an eyebrow but didn’t argue with her. Instead, he climbed out of the car, waiting for her to hop out before locking the doors and being let into the building by the doorman. She held out her hand for his keys so she could unlock the door. Best to start resting his hands now. He handed them to her and she shouldered open the door, letting him past before she locked it behind them.

She was struck by the fact that the last time she had been in this apartment was when Rowan and she had first met. Gods, she had thought he was such a bastard. Funny how quickly things can change.

“Go sit down,” Aelin instructed him, toeing off her sneakers and leaving them by the door. “Where’s your first aid kit?”

“Bathroom cabinet upstairs,” Rowan answered, heading into the living room.

She waited to hear him settle down on the couch before she went upstairs to grab the first aid kit. She found it sandwiched in between a bottle of shaving cream and a box of silver hair toner. Ah, so that was the answer to that question. Not prematurely grey, she smiled to herself.

She headed out of the bathroom and down into the kitchen to grab an ice pack from the freezer. She took note of the lack of frozen pizza and Ben and Jerry’s, a stark contrast to the fridge she shared with Lysandra. Instead. Rowan’s freezer was filled with frozen fruit and veggies, healthy versions of frozen meals and, right at the back, a bag of hashbrowns that she suspected belonged to Fenrys.

She allowed herself a moment to compose herself before heading into the living room. She had been so caught up with worrying about Rowan, she hadn’t really let herself process what had happened that night. She had truly believed that Arobynn would never find her, and in retrospect, that had been naïve. Of course he hadn’t just taken her leaving lying down. It was clever of him to come under the guise of visiting the hospital, instead of just turning up to see her. Hopefully Rowan had been enough to scare him permanently away, as she wasn’t sure she could cope with seeing him again.

She tried desperately to calm the anxiety that had risen at the thought of seeing Arobynn in a situation without Rowan and everyone else at the hospital around. What if he had found her in the hospital parking lot, alone? She shuddered at the thought.

“Hey,” Rowan called from the other room. “You manage to find everything?”

“Yeah,” she yelled back, pulling herself together. “Coming now.”

She padded into the living room, her bare feet making barely a sound. Rowan was sitting on a comfy looking green couch. She hadn’t been in the living room the last time she’d been here, or if she had, she’d been too drunk to remember. It was painted a pretty mint colour, all of the furniture in varying shades of dark green. She couldn’t picture Fenrys or Rowan choosing all the furniture so carefully. She realized with a start that Lyria must have decorated the apartment. How could Rowan stand to be surrounded every single day by the things she had chosen out for the two of them? She had left behind anything that reminded her of Sam when she moved for college, and done the same when she had left Arobynn.

“How’s the patient looking?” she asked, sitting down next to Rowan and taking his hand in her own to examine it. “Nothing feels broken, does it? Can you move all your fingers?” She turned his hand over gently.

He nodded his head, stretching out his fingers to prove it. She allowed herself to get lost in the familiarity of treating him, letting her hands act on muscle memory alone. She had patched Sam up after fights so many times she could have done it in her sleep. He stayed quiet as she carefully disinfected each cut and wrapped up each hand gently.

“You’ve only got one ice pack, but obviously your dominant hand took the brunt of the punches, so I think you’ll be okay to just ice that one,” she said as she finished the wrapping and reached for the improvised ice pack she had left on the coffee table. She gently placed it on his right hand, then gave her attention to the cut on his lip. She turned his head towards the light with a hesitant hand on his cheek.

“I think this cut on your lip could do with a couple of stitches,” she said.

It was easier to look at him through the eyes of a doctor. She wasn’t focused on the way his cheekbones caught the light, or the swell of his lower lip. She was solely focused on treating his wounds. Okay, fine, mostly focused on treating his wounds.

“Okay. I trust you,” Rowan replied, she didn’t let herself think about the last person she imagined he had said that to.

She wondered if he should be trusting her judgement. She was tired and distracted. and he was trusting her to take a needle and thread to his face. She didn’t tell him that though; she liked that he trusted her. Instead, she sterilized his lip and pulled a needle and thread out of the first aid kit.

“Ready?” she asked gently. “This is going to sting.”

He nodded. She reached out, picked up the hand that wasn’t being iced, and placed it on her knee.

“You can squeeze my knee if it hurts,” she said, reaching up to turn his face back towards the light.

She realized, as the warmth of his hand sunk through her jeans, that having his hand on her while she was attempting to sew up his face was a terrible idea. But it was too late. She took a deep breath and tried to ignore the weight of his hand. He winced as she made the first stitch, but didn’t make a sound. For gods’ sakes, giving a man stitches should not be turning her on, she admonished herself. He squeezed her knee as she pushed the needle through the skin of his lip again. She tried to think of anything else: her grandfather, bacterial infections, ugly gnome statues. Anything other than the feeling of his fingers kneading her flesh.

She somehow managed to give him the other two stitches he needed without incident and admired her neat work as she snipped the thread.

“There,” she said. “Good as new.”

He rose to his feet to look in the mirror that hung on the wall. She glanced up at his reflection, and saw he was examining her stitches with an air of pride.

“Nice,” he said finally, and she let out a sigh of relief. She would have been mortified if she’d messed up simple stitches just because she couldn’t pull her mind out of the gutter.

Rowan turned to look at her at the same time as she let out a huge yawn, stretching her arms above her head. He cocked his head at her and she could have sworn she saw his eyes drop to the exposed strip of skin between her blouse and her jeans.

“Bed?” he asked simply.

She nodded and followed him up to the room he had been heading to the last time she had been in his house. It was sparsely decorated, with a double bed in the middle of the room, a chest of drawers, a wardrobe, and nothing that set it out as being his room. No hint of personality. He didn’t even have any pictures up.

“I’m going to buy you a blanket with my face on to spice up this room a little,” she told him, looking around the bare space.

Rowan laughed and then winced again when the movement pulled at the stitches on his lip.

“Can I borrow a t-shirt to sleep in?” Aelin asked, looking towards the chest of drawers.

He nodded and pulled out a large gray-blue t-shirt from the top drawer. It was emblazoned with the logo of Boston University, Rowan’s alma mater. He turned around so she could pull off her jeans and blouse and pull the t-shirt over her head. It was so large it fell down to mid-thigh, covering just enough to save them both any embarrassment. She knew she wasn’t imagining it this time as Rowan’s eyes dropped to her long bare legs. She almost grinned. Finally, an acknowledgement that she was female.

Then again, it was easier to pretend she wasn’t at all attracted to him when he definitely wasn’t interested in her. But standing in his bedroom, in his shirt, with him staring at her with darkened eyes, she was having to use every inch of her self control not to close the space between them and wrap her arms around his neck. There were other things she wanted to do with him, too. But no, Rowan was her friend, and her attending. Very bad idea indeed.

He seemed to come to the same conclusion as he dragged his eyes away from her bare legs and climbed into bed, leaving plenty of space for her to climb in and not be touching him. Just as she had when Rowan had stayed with her, she fell asleep to the sound of him softly breathing.

_Arobynn’s hands were around her throat. She couldn’t breathe; her hands were scrabbling at the wall behind her, but she felt nothing but a smooth surface. She reached up her hands to claw at Arobynn’s face, desperately trying to push him away._

_“No one will ever love you after what you did to Sam,” he snarled in her ear._

_She sobbed, but no one was there to hear. No one to rescue her._

_“You’re a piece of shit, Aelin,” a voice said. It was no longer Arobynn but Sam with his hands around her throat “Why did I die? It should have been you.”_

_“I know,” she cried, “I know it should have been me.”_

_“It should have been you,” Sam said, blood pouring out of his mouth and his eyes and his nose._

_“It should have been me,” Aelin parroted as Sam drove a knife into her heart._

She woke up with a start. Drenched in sweat, desperately trying to catch her breath. She sat up, reaching for her neck to pull away hands that weren’t there. Every breath she took felt like breathing in glass dust particles. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t--

“Aelin.” Rowan’s voice broke through the static that was pressing in on her “Hey, hey, it’s okay. Breathe in through the nose, out through the mouth. That’s it, slowly.”

He pulled her shaking frame to his chest. She breathed in the pine scent and wrapped her arms around his torso, let herself be enveloped by his arms and his scent and the heat of his body.

“It’s okay, it was just a bad dream,” he said soothingly, stroking her hair away from her face. “I got you, it’s okay.”

Slowly, her breathing returned to normal, but she couldn’t bring herself to pull away from his arms. Didn’t want to leave the safety of his hold. He seemed to understand, and he leaned back, settling them so she was lying down with her head in the crook of his neck, his arms still around her.

“It’s okay Aelin. Go back to sleep, _you’re safe_ ,” he whispered.

Lying there in his arms, feeling the whisper of a kiss brush against her head, she believed him.


	14. Haven't You Heard (The Rumours)?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So apologies in advance, this is a bit of a filler chapter. I needed to resolve the Arobynn situation and move things a long so we can get to the funnnnn. I hope you all love me enough to forgive me. Thank you for all the support on the last chapter. Enjoy and I love you all (also we're close to 2,000 reads which I know isn't that high but it makes me super happy so feel free to tell your friends and neighbours all about this fic) also sorry for the wait, I’m an actor and I had some self tapes to film but those are all done now so the next chapter will be up soon!

Aelin awoke within the circle of Rowan’s arms; she hadn’t woken up feeling safe in someone’s arms since Sam. She allowed herself, for one weak moment, to imagine she was in the arms of somebody who loved her as more than a friend, to imagine that she was snuggled up to someone who was going to wake up and tell her they loved her. Maybe for a very brief second she imagined that person was Rowan.

She was curled into his side, her head and one of her hands resting on his chest, legs entwined with his. He couldn’t have been able to feel his arm, since she’d been lying on it all night. Just like the time before, his hand was tangled in her hair. He groaned and she felt him pull his arm out from under her, but he didn’t move away or attempt to untangle their legs. She couldn’t bring herself to move, not yet, not when he was so warm beside her and the outside world was so cold.

“Good morning,” he rasped, his voice at least two octaves lower than usual.

“Morning,” she replied, still unwilling to move.

“We’re going to have a lot to explain today,” Rowan said gently.

She hummed and buried her face deeper into the crook of his neck. He tensed slightly at the feeling of her breath on his skin, but still neither of them moved away.

“Not if we don’t go,” she mumbled.

“I’m an attending; they pay me quite a lot of money to be there,” Rowan chuckled.

“They don’t pay me much at all, does that mean I don’t have to go?”

Rowan huffed out a laugh that was more like an exhale. She felt his chest rise and fall under her palm. She really couldn’t think of anything worse than going into the hospital. The rumors were going to be absolutely flying around; there was no way people wouldn’t assume that she was dating Rowan after that scene they’d put on. After all the effort she’d gone through to keep her relationship with Arobynn a secret, it was going to be her completely platonic relationship with Rowan that ruined her reputation. How was that for ironic?

“I can cover for you if you want to stay home. I wouldn’t blame you after what happened,” Rowan said.

“If I stay home it’ll look like I’m ashamed. Which I am, but they don’t need to know that.”

“Hey,” Rowan nudged her shoulder softly. “You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

Aelin sat up, too abruptly for such a cold morning, and ran a hand through her hair in frustration. There was condensation gathering on the window, which meant that it was colder outside. Which was insane because it was absolutely baltic in Rowan’s sparse bedroom.

“Gods it’s fucking freezing,” she whined, swinging her legs out of bed.

She turned around to look at Rowan, and noticed his eyes were firmly trained on her face. Possibly too firmly, as if he was deliberately not surveying the miles of tanned skin peeking out from under her borrowed t-shirt.

“I’m serious, Aelin. You did nothing wrong yesterday. If anyone should be embarrassed it’s probably me, considering I started a brawl in the middle of a crowded lobby.” Rowan sighed, climbing out of bed and going over to the chest of drawers.

She turned away as he peeled off his shirt, just getting a glimpse of the abs she had felt under her palm a few minutes prior. He must find time to go to the gym, no way did his body just look like that.

“We should go in separately this morning,” Aelin said, training her eyes on a spot of peeling paint on the wall. Resisting the temptation to turn around and see what else Rowan’s clothes had been hiding. “People are going to assume things after last night. It’ll look bad if we go in together. Especially if I turn up in the same clothes as yesterday.”

“You might have a point,” Rowan replied.

“I usually do.”

“Fine,” Rowan huffed slightly, “I’ll drop you off at yours, we cancel the lesson this morning, you come in with Lysandra and Aedion and then we go see the chief together when you arrive.”

“Sounds like a plan. Do you have coffee?”

“Downstairs, I’ll meet you down there in a second.”

Aelin turned around to see Rowan, disappointingly, fully clothed, and made her way out of the bedroom and down into the kitchen. There was a full pot of coffee on the counter, one of those fancy machines that made the coffee on a timer. She poured her mug to the brim and took a seat at the marble breakfast bar to wait.

“Aelin?” a voice asked from behind her. "In my kitchen in only a t-shirt. Am I still dreaming?"

“Fenrys,” she replied without turning around, “how are you this fine morning?”

He walked over to her side, placing a kiss on her cheek, looking very confused.

“Did I give you a key and not remember?” he asked, pouring himself a mug of coffee.

“No, I stayed with Rowan last night. Ex-boyfriend trouble,” she replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Ah,” Fenrys replied, still looking very confused but, bless him, clearly trying not to pry.

“My ex-boyfriend showed up at the hospital, got all violent, Rowan kicked his ass, insisted that I stayed here to be on the safe side.”

“Right,” Fenrys still looked confused. “So… you and Rowan?”

He wiggled his eyebrows at her, as if she could have construed that question in any other way than the way he meant it.

“No!” she yelped. And then, more calmly, “I mean, no… we’re just friends.”

Fenrys nodded and took a sip of his coffee, which he immediately spit out at the sight of Rowan walking into the kitchen. The cut on his lip did look worse in the light of day, though her stitches still looked perfect. Obviously.

“Gods, Rowan, nice battle injury there,” Fenrys said and let out a low whistle. “I hope the other guy looks worse.”

Aelin smiled into her mug.

“The other guy looks much worse,” she crowed.

She and Rowan sat and had coffee with Fenrys before they left, telling him more of the details from the previous night, and then Rowan dropped her off at her flat before heading to the hospital. Lysandra was in her bedroom getting ready, Aedion sitting on her bed looking very much like the cat who got the cream. She told them the story as she got ready, bringing her makeup into Lys’ room so they’d have longer to talk.

“And he just fucking went for him?” Aedion asked in disbelief.

Aelin nodded, pulling a brush through her tangled hair. Aedion, like Fenrys, let out a low whistle.

“I like Rowan more and more every day.” He said appreciatively, Lysandra hummed in agreement.

“So,” Aelin began, “are you two going to tell me you’ve made it official, or...?”

They both blushed but nodded, Lysandra tucking her hand into Aeidion’s.

“Yeah, we might be,” she said with a smile.

The three of them drove to the hospital together, running into Chaol and Dorian in the parking lot. It was strange, to be arriving so much later than she usually did. The lobby was busier; she had to queue for the coffee cart and sure enough, everyone was staring at her. And whispering. They were all staring and whispering and she hated it. It was rare for her to dislike getting attention, but gods, she just wished they would all stop.

“Anyone would think they saw two of the country’s top Cardio surgeons get into a fist fight over you or something,” Dorian whispered in her ear as they walked towards the elevator.

Aelin rolled her eyes and shoved him.

“They weren’t having a fight over me. Rowan would have done the same no matter who it had been in my position.”

“Rowan?” Dorian asked, eyebrows raised. “He’s Rowan now is he?”

“Fuck off,” Aelin replied, making a vulgar gesture.

Everyone continued to whisper and stare in the locker room and on her way to the chief’s office to meet Rowan. Dr. Blackbeak had allowed her to skip rounds with minimal protest; Aelin knew she had a soft spot for her. She felt almost apprehensive as she walked to Dr. Ytgers office, not over explaining the situation, but seeing Rowan. Or maybe apprehensive was the wrong word… excited, perhaps? She couldn’t stop thinking about walking up next to him, wondering if she’d ever get to do that again. Aelin shook her head, trying to focus on the situation. Right, yes, back to trying to save her and Rowan’s jobs. She saw Rowan sitting inside the office with Dr. Ytger and she knocked before she entered.

“Dr. Galathynius, hello,” Dr. Ytger greeted. “Please take a seat.”

Aelin walked into the glass-walled room and took a seat on the plush white couch next to Rowan. But not right next to Rowan, an appropriate distance away from Rowan. Because, at least for the next 10 minutes, they were colleagues and nothing more.

“So, we don’t need to dance around the reason you’re both here, do we?” Dr. Ytger said, a slight smile on her face. She didn’t look furious, or like she might fire them both. So far so good.

“It wasn’t Dr. Whitethorn’s fault,” Aelin jumped in before Rowan could say anything. “If you watch the elevator security footage, you’ll see Dr. Hamel was harassing me--“

“I’ve already seen the footage,” Dr. Ytger interrupted her.

Aelin stopped, glanced at Rowan who was looking confused and then looked back to Dr. Ytger.

“You’ve already seen it?” she asked.

“I looked at it last night after the news of a brawl over an intern reached me. It seemed out of character for Dr. Whitethorn and I remembered the way Dr. Hamel spoke to you yesterday morning. So, I checked the security footage.”

“And?” Rowan asked hesitantly.

“And you’ve got a fantastic right hook Dr. Whitethorn,” Dr. Ytger answered, a twinkle in her eye.

“So, I’m not fired?” Rowan asked.

“Gods no!” Dr. Ytger laughed. “I wish I’d been the one to punch that smug son of a bitch.”

Aelin exhaled, and tension in her shoulders that she hadn’t even noticed she was carrying disappeared. She hadn’t gotten Rowan fired. _She hadn’t gotten Rowan fired._

“And Dr. Galathynius,” Dr. Ytger looked to Aelin, “I’ve sent the footage to the hospital where Dr. Hamel is currently working; I think he’ll soon be finding himself without a job.”

Aelin grinned at the woman in front of her. In all of her nightmares about seeing Arobynn again, there’s no way she could have imagined this outcome. Arobynn was going to be ruined. It wasn’t her reputation in tatters, but his. Victory was sweet.

“Do you know what percentage of surgeons in this country are women?” Dr. Ytger asked, taking a sip of her coffee.

“19%” Aelin answered, It was a statistic that was branded into her brain, one Arobynn had rubbed in her face while telling her she needed him.

“That’s right.” Dr. Ytger replied, with an air of surprise. “We’re a minority in this world Aelin. You ever have any trouble like that again, you come to me rather than allowing Dr. Whitethorn to start a fist fight in my lobby. Are we clear?”

“Crystal.”

If only that had been the end of it, but sadly Dr. Ytger was the least of their worries. People would not stop gossiping. Now, Aelin could usually gossip with the best of them; she was in actual fact a champion gossip. But if people didn’t stop whispering behind their hands when she walked into a room she was going to fucking lose it. The sheer amount of bullshit she had heard about herself in the last week was insane. According to the nurses she was pregnant with Rowan’s baby, the Ortho surgeons were saying that she was trading surgeries for sexual favours, and her absolute favourite: apparently she and Rowan were secretly married and had been since the beginning of her internship.

“I don’t know how much longer I can take this,” she told Rowan as they walked into his office together. It had reached the gossip mill yesterday that she and Rowan drove to work together, which had just added fuel to an already raging fire.

“You know, the nurses have a betting pool on when we’ll break up. Someone should probably tell them that we’re not actually together,” Rowan huffed as he hung up his coat and held out a hand to take hers.

“But I put $50 on June,” Aelin teased.

“Well, I guess we can stay together till then. I’ll take one for the team,” Rowan said and flicked her on the nose.

“Take one for the team?! You’d be fucking lucky to land someone as gorgeous as me, Whitethorn.”

Rowan rolled his eyes and took a seat at his desk. Although they were both complaining, they both knew they’d gotten lucky. Aelin had heard rumors of interns being blacklisted from surgeries after scandals smaller than her own. So, as annoying as rumour mill was, it was preferable to the alternative.

“So, in all seriousness, what to do you want to call the baby?” Aelin asked with a straight face.

Rowan throwing a scrap of balled up paper at her was his only answer.


	15. Fever (When You Hold Me Tight)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I just like... forgot how to write Rowan for like 4 days?? IDK I had to go back and read all my favourite Rowan scenes bc I just couldn't write him it was weird. Anyways, just a little life update you for all, if you could all put all your magical energy towards getting me a callback for the drama school I'm waiting to hear from. I'm still in the running with 4 days left in the decision process (which is really cool) so pretty please keep me in your thoughts. Love you all xo enjoyyyy

It took two weeks for the rumors to die down. Two weeks of Aelin having to distance herself from Rowan as much as she could. They cancelled their morning lessons, they stopped driving in together, and Aelin took herself off his service to allow time for people to forget about the incident. She spent two weeks feeling irritable and melancholy before realising why. She missed him. She missed Rowan so much that it hurt, which was ridiculous considering she still saw him around the hospital. But try telling that to her stupid brain. Or maybe it was her heart. Whichever organ was causing the black hole of longing inside of her, she was seriously considering having removed. She’d once seen a woman survive without a heart for two hours, so it could be done.

Finally, though, it seemed as though things were going back to normal. The nurses had stopped whispering when she rounded a corner, and she hadn’t been called Mrs. Whitethorn in six days. She texted Rowan, asking if he thought it was safe to drive in together the next day. They came to the hesitant conclusion that it was an appropriate time to return to their usual routine.

“So, on a scale of one to stepping out into moving traffic, how much did you miss me?” Aelin grinned at Rowan as she slid into his passenger seat for the first time in two weeks.

“At least a solid three,” Rowan replied, corners of his mouth twitching as he tried not to smile. 

The sun caught on his silver hair as he moved his hand to her headrest so he could back out of the driveway. What was it about men reversing cars that was so sexy? Then again, it could have just been Rowan. He probably would have looked sexy eating cereal in a banana costume.

“A three!” she screeched, partly offended and partly covering the fact that she had totally been checking him out. By the twinkle in his eye, she hadn’t covered it very well.

“Okay, fine,” Rowan sighed, reaching out and tucking the hair that had fallen in front of her face behind her ear tenderly. “A three and a half.”

Aelin snapped her teeth at his hand and he quickly pulled it away, but he was laughing. Gods, she wished she could start every morning listening to him laugh.

“You are a feral beast,” Rowan laughed. “How they let you practice medicine is beyond me.”

“Well they let _you_ practice, so the bar can’t be very high.”

And so things returned to normal. Except things weren’t normal, because now Aelin was more aware of all these feelings she had. Pesky, inconvenient feelings that she had no business having towards her godsdamn attending. Towards her friend. She had felt empty without him; that’s not something that you can easily forget. She kept getting distracted by his hands and his eyes and his fucking smile. It was humiliating. She was a grown woman, for gods’ sake. Rowan was very important to her. He had changed her life; she wasn’t going to let some stupid crush get in the way of that. She wouldn’t let herself ruin the most important relationship in her life because of some stupid fucking butterflies that seemed to have taken root in her stomach. So she was doing her very best to ignore how beautiful her best friend was. She had plenty of beautiful friends: Fenrys, Lysandra, Dorian, all incredibly beautiful. But she wasn’t jumping into bed with any of them. Because they were her friends. Rowan was just her friend.

Maybe if she said it enough she’d start to believe it.

So, when she woke up on Monday morning with a text from Rowan telling her that he would not be coming to work that day because he was sick, she definitely was not disappointed. Because that would be pathetic. She did not spend the whole day worrying about him, because he was a doctor and a grown man who could obviously look after himself. And she didn’t debate the pros and cons of visiting him for the whole day. But when he called in sick the next day... well, it would be irresponsible of her, a medical professional, to not go check on him, right? That was what she told herself as she finished her shift and walked to the bar to borrow Fenrys’ house keys (to his great amusement; he called her a fussing mother hen).

“Hey Rowan,” she called as she stepped through the door. “It’s me, Aelin.”

“Aelin?” Rowan’s croaky voice called from his room upstairs.

She made her way up the stairs, pulling her hair into a messy bun on her head as she walked. It was still freezing in the house, which couldn’t have been good for Rowan if he was sick. She shivered slightly in her thin blue silk blouse and gently rapped her knuckles on Rowan’s door.

“Can I come in?” she asked.

“Yeah.” Rowan rasped.

The room was dark as she walked in, curtains drawn, Rowan a barely visible lump under the covers.

“What are you doing here?” he croaked.

“Checking on you, obviously. Can I open the curtains?”

The lump on the bed seemed to nod, so she opened the curtains just enough to let some light into the room, but not enough to overwhelm him. She turned to look at him, and... _how was that fair?_ When she was sick, she looked like an extra from Night of the Living Dead. But Rowan, well, he still looked beautiful. Even though his cheeks were flushed and he was covered in a sheen of sweat and his eyes were rimmed with red. She reached out and put a hand on his forehead; he was burning up.

“Mmmm, your hands are so cold,” he groaned appreciatively.

“I’ve got terrible circulation,” she replied, sitting down on the bed next to him. She tried to remove her hand but he shot out his own to keep it in place. “What are your symptoms?”

“It’s the flu,” Rowan sighed. “I’ve got a fever, hot and cold chills, everything aches, and a sore throat.”

Ah, the flu. Horribly unpleasant, but nothing a few days of rest wouldn’t fix. She had worked herself up into a frenzy, imagining incurable diseases and months to live. That was the downside of being a highly qualified medical professional: you saw death everywhere. But obviously Rowan wasn’t dying. He had the flu. She breathed a silent sigh of relief.

“Have you eaten?” she asked. “Had any medicine?”

Rowan shook his head to both. Godsdamned doctors, always the worst patients.

“So, soup, painkillers, and Brooklyn Nine-Nine?” She moved her hand from his forehead and he whined. Actually whined. It was incredibly endearing.

“And maybe a cold compress,” she added.

“Or you can keep your lovely cold hands on my head,” he said, leaning towards her.

“Ah,so you’re needy when you’re sick are you?” she teased.

Rowan looked put out, but didn’t disagree. She tried not to focus on the warm and fuzzy feelings that bloomed in her stomach at the thought of Rowan needing her.

“I’ll be right back. I’m going to run out and buy supplies,” she told him.

There was a store just around the corner from Rowan’s house, and she headed there as quickly as she could, stocking up on soup, ice cream, painkillers, and sports drinks to replace the fluid he was losing through sweat. When she returned to the apartment, she dug out a tray that she found in the cupboard and loaded it with a bowl of soup she had heated up in the microwave, a chunk of bread, and an isotonic sports drink. She shoved the painkillers in her pocket and carefully carried the tray up the stairs.

“Grub’s up,” she said, nudging the door open with her hip.

Rowan had propped himself up in bed, the blankets pooled low his bare chest. His very muscled and bare chest.

“It’s freezing in here,” she tutted. “You should have a sweater on.”

“I’m absolutely boiling,” Rowan replied, allowing her to place the tray of food in his lap. She pulled the painkillers from her pocket and gave him some to take.

“Yeah, that tends to happen to people when I walk in a room. Nothing to worry about,” Aelin teased, slightly unintelligibly as her teeth began to chatter. “Seriously Rowan, I know you’re feverish but you should have a sweater on. You’ll make yourself sicker.”

“Fine, can you grab one from my drawer?” he asked, swallowing down the pills. “And get yourself one. Your teeth are chattering so loudly it’s giving me a headache.”

Aelin walked over to the chest of drawers and chucked him a blue sweater, taking a comfy looking green one for herself. It was comically large on her, falling to her mid-thigh, and it smelled like Rowan. She never wanted to take it off.

“That suits you. You should wear it forever,” Rowan told her, and he patted the spot next to himself on the bed. “Can you come put your lovely cold hands back on my head please?”

Aelin settled herself next to him on the bed, placing a hand on each of his flushed cheeks. He was burning up beneath her palms and he leaned into her touch, sighing with relief.

“People usually complain about my cold hands,” she laughed. “They’re not a good trait for a doctor to have, really.”

“Mm unless your patient has a fever,” Rowan groaned.

He was sweet like this. She never thought she’d describe Rowan as sweet but as he grinned at her, cheeks flushed, sweet was the only word for it.

She was so completely and utterly fucked.

It had been easy to pretend that her attraction to Rowan was purely sexual, but looking at him now, she knew that wasn’t the truth. She liked him as a human being, she enjoyed his company, she didn’t just want to hit it and quit it. She wanted Rowan.

And she couldn’t have him.

He was her attending and her friend, he was in love with his deceased fiancée, and he clearly didn’t see her like that at all anyway. She was hit with the memory of holding him after the bomb scare, as he told her she was one of the only friends he had made since Lyria. She couldn’t mess that up, she wouldn’t risk abandoning him like that. He needed her as a friend. She could shove all of her feelings into a box, pop that box on a moving truck, and then blow the moving truck up. Kaboom. Because the risk of losing Rowan forever over some stupid warm and fuzzy feelings, that wasn’t a risk she was about to take. 

She watched as he tucked into the soup and bread, wolfing it down with the vigor of a man who hadn’t eaten in weeks.

“Want to watch something on my phone?” she asked when he had finished.

“Can you just talk? Tell me something I don’t know.”

She smiled at him softly and he lay down so his head was resting on her lap. She inhaled sharply, but thankfully he didn’t notice. It wasn’t that it was her, she told herself, Rowan was sick, he just wanted to be close to someone. Anyone.

“Okay, how about if I tell you about the time that I almost got Aedion arrested for kidnapping me?” she laughed, running her fingers through his hair gently.

She regaled him with story after story of her and Aedion’s chaotic youth. And by extension, Sam. She talked until it got dark and Rowan’s fever had finally broken. She talked about Sam, and it didn’t feel like a weight on her heart, it felt like joy. It felt like she was honoring Sam by telling his stories.

Rowan’s breath was beginning to even out into sleep, with her fingers still running through his hair. With her free hand, she grabbed her phone from where she had placed it on the bedside table. It was 1:30am. She began to edge herself out of the bed, laying Rowan’s head carefully on the pillows.

“Don’t be stupid,” he mumbled, grabbing onto her wrist. “It’s late, you don’t drive, just stay.”

She debated whether she should stay on the couch; she couldn't afford to take time off work and fall behind the other interns. But, she’d had her flu shot, and had a fantastic immune system. She’d be fine.

“I should start carrying a toothbrush around with me,” she sighed, climbing back into the bed.

“You should,” Rowan agreed. “You know what else you should do?”

“No, what else should I do?”

“Come with me to the medical fundraising benefit next week. It’s the most boring event of the year.”

“You’re really selling it,” she teased, trying to ignore the jump of her heart at the thought of seeing Rowan in a suit.

“I like seeing you suffer,” he replied.

“Do I look like a masochist?” 

“Please, Aelin. I hate going alone,” he murmured. "Don't make me beg."

“Ah the magic word. Was that so hard?” She tried not to imagine other situations where she could make Rowan beg. “I would have said yes anyway, I just wanted to hear you say please.”

He pinched her hip lightly and she laughed. It was so easy to be with him. She could be happy with this forever she thought. Even if she never told Rowan the feelings she was beginning to feel, even if he never felt the same way. She could be happy like this, being his friend.

Or she could pretend to be.


	16. I'm Fine With Who I Am Now (If You'll Dance With Me Tonight)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello my lovely friends. I'm sorry this update took so long, my brain was just no cooperating. But the most important thing about this chapter is... IT'S EDITED! Massive shout-out to @girldani for editing the mess that is my unedited writing! I owe you big time and I appreciate it so much!

As flattered as Aelin was to be invited to the fundraiser by a half asleep and possibly still feverish Rowan, in the cold light of day it really seemed like a less than stellar plan. The rumours about their relationship status had only just died down; what would it look like if he took her to the biggest hospital event of the year as his date? Suspicious, that’s how it would look. But she also didn’t want to leave him to go alone.

She wanted to go, more than anything actually. She had the perfect dress, and the thought of Rowan seeing her in it was almost enough to convince her to throw caution to the wind. But her career had to come first.

“You know the rumours will start up again if you take me to the fundraiser, right?” she asked Rowan, who was now back at work and fully over his bout of the flu.

Rowan rolled his eyes as they walked down the corridor together and took a sip of his coffee. They were headed to scrub in for an angioplasty, and he had promised her she’d actually be able to get her hands on the heart. Which was great, because none of the other attendings had let her get her hands anywhere near a scalpel while he’d been gone. She was pretty sure most of them hated her because of her blatant disinterest in their specialties, and the ones who didn’t hate her were definitely trying to get into her pants. Seriously, you’re rumoured to be dating one attending and suddenly all of them seem to think you’re free real estate.

“You were the one who was bothered by the rumours. I couldn’t care less what the nurses think,” Rowan replied. “I couldn’t care less what anyone in this hospital thinks.”

_“That_ is why no one but me wants to be on your service, but that’s a discussion for another day.”

Rowan huffed slightly, but it wasn’t exactly news that he wasn’t the most well-liked attending. In fact, the only person less popular than him was Dr Salveterre, which was saying something. 

“I’m serious, Rowan! I want to go, I do, but I have to be sure that it’s not going to negatively affect my career.”

Rowan threw his hands up in the air in frustration. He must have known deep down that she was right, though, as he didn’t argue. She was a little disappointed that he wasn’t arguing with her more, actually. She kind of wanted him to fight for the right to take her as his date. But he was quiet as they scrubbed in for the surgery. 

He didn’t mention the fundraiser at all as they performed the angioplasty. He didn’t even look at her at all, actually. Maybe he had been so feverish when he’d asked her that when he woke up the next morning he’d regretted asking her at all. Maybe she was giving him the perfect way out.

She tried to focus on the surgery rather than her debilitating crush on her attending, but it was incredibly difficult when her brain wouldn’t stop running over the conversation they’d just had. She felt like she was sixteen again, over-analyzing every word some boy had said to her, just in case there was some hidden meaning she had missed. He had called it the most boring event of the year. Maybe he was just asking to be polite, assuming that if he undersold it, she’d say no. 

This was insanity. She was a grown woman. A gorgeous and funny and smart grown woman. She had to stop pining over the one man she couldn’t have.

“Okay, come with me,” Rowan said, grabbing her hand as they exited the scrub room.

“And where are we going?” She tried desperately to ignore the butterflies that appeared in her stomach from his hand in hers.

She failed.

“You’ll see,” Rowan replied.

He dragged her through the corridors, earning them a few knowing looks from the nurses. She attempted to tell them with her eyes that she and Rowan were not sneaking off for a quickie in the on-call room, but they began to giggle amongst themselves anyway. She resigned herself to the fact that she would be dealing with “on-call room hook up” jokes for the next few days.

Rowan finally came to a stop outside Dr. Ytger’s office, and he knocked on the door sharply before Aelin could even ask what they were doing there.

“Come in,” Dr Ytger’s voice called from inside.

Rowan pulled open the door and dropped Aelin’s hand. He didn’t walk inside, just stuck his head in the room.

“Dr. Ytger, quick question,” he said.

“Shoot.”

“You’re okay if I take Aelin to the hospital fundraiser as my friend, and you won’t listen to any of the rumors about the status of our relationship, will you?”

Dr. Ytger looked up from her paperwork, amused. She studied the two of them, and Aelin felt as if she was seeing right through her, right to the part of her that did not want to just be Rowan’s friend at all.

“Of course. You know me, I try not to listen to the gossip anyway.” She smiled wryly.

“Great. Thank you.” Rowan nodded, shut the door, and began to walk away.

Aelin blinked. It took a few moments for her feet to catch up with her brain, and she stumbled as she went to follow him.

“Happy?” Rowan asked bluntly when she caught up.

“Um, yes?”

“Great. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“Right. Okay. Great.”

Aelin felt a tug in her stomach; he really did want her to go with him. Enough so that he went to the chief of surgery to dispel her worries about the rumor mill. If he didn’t care about the rumors, and neither did Dr. Ytger, then neither would she. Since when did she care what anybody else thought, anyway? She was going to go to the fundraiser, and she was going to look damn good doing it.

The day came around before she knew it. Gods bless whoever had written her schedule that week, because the fundraiser had fallen on her day off. It had been so long since she had time to get ready for an event leisurely.... come to think of it, it had been a hot minute since she’d had an event to go to at all. The last time she’d been to something fancy was a family wedding four years ago (It hadn’t stayed fancy; she and Aedion had been so drunk that they’d awoken in a field, covered in mud, to a very unimpressed farmer.)

Aelin took her time getting ready: she shaved for the first time in a disturbingly long time, she actually used the hair mask Lysandra had bought her for Christmas, and she doused herself from head to toe in rose scented moisturiser. She was ridiculously giddy as she sat in front of her mirror drying her hair and then pinning it up into a twisted updo; she felt like she was sixteen and getting ready for prom. She was equal parts looking forward to and dreading seeing Rowan in a suit. Looking forward to it for obvious reasons, dreading the fact that she would have to act like she was unaffected by it. There was just something about a man in a suit.

She tried to shake the inappropriate thoughts of Rowan out of her head as she started on her makeup. She went for a simple brown smokey eye look with a slightly glossy lip. The dress was the main event; she didn’t want to overshadow it. She had bought it years ago, with no place, event, or reason to justify the purchase. It had been a ridiculous expense for a med student, but after she had seen it and spent two months getting distracted by thoughts of it, she caved. It was probably the nicest thing she had ever owned, a mint green full-length slip covered by a mesh gold floral overlay. It was modest until you got to the back, or the lack of. It was almost completely backless, dipping scandalously low with straps that crisscrossed across her shoulders and lower back.

She twisted in the mirror to admire the smooth curve of her back. She took one last long look in the mirror, fixed a piece of hair that had fallen out of place, and spritzed herself with some perfume. As if on cue, the doorbell rang. She glanced at her phone, 7:04pm.

“You’re late,” she tutted as she pulled the door open to reveal Rowan on the other side.

Her mouth quite literally went dry at what she saw. She could have daydreamed about Rowan in a suit all day long and it still never would have matched up to what was standing in front of her. He was wearing a suit in a dark shade of green; a three-piece suit with the top few buttons of his shirt left undone. She might actually have to go sit down, she thought. She felt lightheaded. Was it hot, or was it just her?

“I am not--” Rowan began to reply, but he stopped as she stepped forward into the light. “Oh.”

Aelin watched his eyes darken as he took in her dress and then came back up to rest on her face. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.

“You look... I mean... Wow,” he managed to get out.

She had never seen Rowan at a loss for words. They had been in actual life-threatening situations together, and he hadn’t so much as stumbled. But here he was, standing on her doorstep, unable to form a sentence. It was nice to know he was as affected by her now as she was by him occasionally.

“If I had known all I had to do to shut you up was put on a dress, I would have worn one a lot sooner,” she teased. 

“You look beautiful,” he replied, and her heart skipped at least two beats.

“You don’t look too shabby yourself.”

That was the understatement of the century. She was greatly impressed by her own ability to keep a poker face, as clearly it was better than Rowan’s. Good to know. Hey, maybe she’d trick him into a game of strip poker one day. 

Rowan coughed and seemed to pull himself together. She wished he hadn’t; seeing him get flustered was possibly her new favorite thing.

“Ready to go?” he asked, holding out an arm for her to take.

“Look at you,” she cooed, tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow. “Such a gentleman. Who knew all we had to do to civilize you was put you in a suit.”

“I am plenty civilized, you’re the one who snores and eats more sugar than a toddler who was allowed to go grocery shopping alone.”

She gasped in mock horror and shoved her shoulder into his. “I do not snore!”

“You absolutely do,” he laughed. “But it’s okay, I find it charming.”

Aelin willed herself not to blush. This was so dumb, it really was like she was sixteen again. Men and women flirted with her all the time and she was left unimpressed, but Rowan told her he didn’t mind her snoring and she was ready to swoon. She had to pull herself together.

They joked and teased each other on the drive to the hospital, just like any other day, but Aelin could have sworn Rowan’s eyes kept slipping to the slit in her dress that exposed one of her legs. She crossed her legs casually as an experiment, exposing more of her tanned thigh. That tell-tale muscle in Rowan’s jaw twitched. She wanted to crawl into his lap and kiss that spot. Thankfully, before she could do anything of the sort, they pulled into the parking lot.

“I can’t believe they didn’t spring for a nicer location than the cafeteria,” she snorted as Rowan helped her out of the car and offered her his arm again.

“You mean you don’t think the place where we all eat lunch is going to look classy and magical?” Rowan asked flatly.

“I’m just saying, you’ve got to spend money to make money.”

“Speaking of making money, I did warn you how boring this is going to be didn’t I? I’m only here to suck up to all the donors, and you have to help me because I’m bad at it.”

“You? Bad at being nice to people? I don’t know, that sounds very out of character.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. _‘This is no time for mocking me,’_ his eyes said.

“Don’t worry, I will be so unbelievably charming that they’ll just hand over a blank check and tell us to take what we want.” She grinned at him.

“I wouldn’t blame them,” Rowan laughed, eying the back of her dress completely unsubtly.

Rowan had not been lying about how boring the event was. They spent the first hour apart, Rowan catching her eye apologetically as he was dragged from donor to donor, touting the same old speech about the cutting-edge research they were hoping to fund for the Cardio department. As for Aelin, she had mostly been forced to chat to the donors who were trying to get into her pants. She knew she looked good, but if she had to suffer through one more middle-aged man telling her she was too pretty to be a doctor, she was going to scream. She did, however, seem to be doing her job well, as at least four of the men she had spoken to had promised they would donate to the Cardio department specifically.

She was standing leaning against a wall, debating whether or not to take her shoes off and attempt to take a break from the schmoozing, when Rowan appeared next to her.

“I’m surprised I didn’t find you at the bar,” he told her. He had taken off the jacket of his suit so he was wearing only his waistcoat and shirt, sleeves pushed up to his elbows. She swallowed dryly.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I haven't had a drink all night.”

“I had noticed; I was wondering why.”

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I know how you feel about drinking.”

Rowan cocked his head at her in surprise. “Oh.”

“That’s the second time tonight I’ve stunned you into silence. I really should be using this to my advantage somehow,” she laughed.

“I didn’t like the drinking when you were doing it every night just to get to sleep,” Rowan told her gently. “It’s none of my business if you want to have a glass of champagne at an event.”

She had thought about it, taking the edge off the conversations with boring people with a nice cold glass of champagne. But that wasn’t who she was anymore. Even at a boring event such as this one, she was comfortable with who she was when she was sober. She didn’t need to change that by getting so drunk she couldn’t stand.

“And risk forgetting a single second of these gross old men staring at my boobs instead of my face? I think not.”

“Has anyone been making you uncomfortable?” Rowan growled.

“Down, boy,” she replied with a dry smile. “I’m fine. Just middle-aged men getting their kicks before they have to go home and have unsatisfying sex with their wives who no longer love them.”

Rowan didn’t look convinced. She wished she didn’t love it when he was protective. She considered herself a feminist and an independent woman; she didn’t need a man to fight her battles for her. But when Rowan’s eyes flicked around the room, ready to scare off any potential creeps, she had to admit the primal part of her preened in response.

“Dance with me?” he asked, surprising her. She had noticed the dance floor when they’d arrived, but hadn’t actually expected Rowan to ask her. He smiled at her and held out his hand.

“Lead the way.”


	17. A Drop In The Ocean (A Change In The Weather)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHAHAHAH I CAN WRITE AGAIN! I apologise in advance to those I told there would be no angst. I'm afraid I LIED. As usual, I love you all. I recommend you listen to three songs while you read this chapter, a drop in the ocean by ron pope, broken strings by james morrison and all of me by john legend. I cried writing this chapter, I'd like you all to cry reading it. On that note, enjoyyyyyy.

_A drop in the ocean, a change in the weather, I was praying that you and me might end up together._

Aelin really wished a different song was playing as Rowan led her onto the dance floor. Preferably a faster one, like “Single Ladies” or the Chicken Dance.

She tried to calm her pounding heart as Rowan settled one hand on her bare lower back and pulled her against his chest. She settled one hand on his shoulder, leaving her other entwined with his.

“I love this song,” she murmured, and he hummed in agreement.

They swayed together to the gentle melody of the piano. She could feel where Rowan was going to step before he did it, their bodies moving together so perfectly it was as if they’d rehearsed it. It was just like when they performed surgeries together, the two of them anticipating eachother’s every move. His eyes didn’t leave her face as he spun her out and then back into his arms. Her breath caught in her throat at the feeling of his body against hers.

“Where exactly did you learn to dance?” she asked, trying to sound less breathless.

“My mother made me take ballroom until I was 15. You’re not too shabby yourself,” he smiled.

“Ballet until I was 16. Look at us, so civilised.”

“Nobody would guess that you swear like a trucker and snore like a chainsaw.”

“Hmm, or that you started a brawl in the middle of the lobby and don’t know the names of any of the Kardashians.”

Rowan laughed loudly, earning them a few disapproving looks from the other pairs around them. Aelin buried her head in his chest, giggling at the glare Rowan sent to the old man who tutted at them.

“Shhh Aelin. This is a serious event; no joy or laughter allowed,” he mock-whispered “And anyway, thanks to you, I regrettably now know the names of all the Kardashians.”

“I can’t tell you how happy that makes me,” she grinned, keeping her cheek resting on his chest. 

“You have successfully lowered my IQ, congratulations.”

With her head buried in his chest and his heartbeat in her ears, Aelin realised that in her haste to keep Rowan from realising how she felt, she hadn’t told him how good he looked. She had reverted to her default state, pushing others away with humour. She didn’t want to do that anymore. Not to him.

“I meant to say earlier,” she said, tilting her head up to look him in the eyes, “you look really good tonight.”

In the low glow of the fairy lights that someone had clearly hung in an attempt to make the cafeteria look less like a cafeteria, with Rowan smiling at her softly, Aelin felt the happiest she had been in a very long time.

And that was the problem. Rowan made her so unbelievably happy that she felt like her heart was going to leap clean out of her chest. Which would be embarrassing because then Rowan, as the only cardio attending present, would have to be the one to sew it back in.

He made her forget every single reason that they couldn’t be together and all the reasons it was a bad idea to just say fuck it and kiss him senseless. Which was a problem, to say the least.

“Um, I-I’ll be back in a minute,” she mumbled, breaking out of the circle of Rowan’s arms and practically fleeing the dance floor.

“Aelin!” Rowan called after her, but she was already halfway out the door.

She needed some air, some space to remind herself of every single reason why Rowan was completely off limits. She wasn’t even entirely aware of where her feet were carrying her until she arrived at the staircase leading to the roof.

Yes, the roof, this was good. Fresh air.

She breathed in the cold night air gratefully. Seattle looked beautiful from up here; no trace of grey skies and dirty pavements. Just a blanket of bright lights underneath a clear sky filled with stars. She did her best to take deep breaths as she stood and admired the city, one she had worked so hard to be a part of.

She couldn’t throw everything she’d worked so hard for away for some man. Yes, Rowan was beautiful, and kind, and smart, but he was also her attending. What if she told him how she felt and he didn’t feel the same, and she had to switch specialities and resign herself to a life of dermatology? Or what if she told him how she felt and he felt the same and they started dating, but then they had a horrible and messy breakup and he never spoke to her again and she had to switch specialities and resign herself to a life of general surgery? She couldn’t picture herself as anything but a Cardio surgeon. She didn’t want to be anything else. Her hands had been made to sew hearts back together.

But what if they’d also been built to hold Rowan? What if she woke up in thirty years alone because no one was as perfect for her as he was? What would a career mean then, if she was alone?

Gods, she was just going around in circles.

She had just left Rowan there on the dance floor alone. She simply needed to get over herself and go back down to charm all those donors out of their wallets.

“Aelin?” Rowan’s voice called as she heard the opening of the door to the roof behind her.

She turned to see him walking towards her, slowly, the same way you might approach a rabid animal.

“Hey, sorry I just needed some air,” she smiled at him as genuinely as she could.

He quirked an eyebrow at her, unimpressed. He really was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen, even staring at her like she had gone mad. “Did you accidentally take a horse tranquilliser or something?” he asked. “What’s going on with you?”

“I just needed some air, like I said.” She shivered slightly in the cold night air.

Rowan eyed her bare arms, wordlessly stepped next to her, and tucked her under his arm, into the warmth of his side.

“Can you really name all the Kardashians?” she asked softly, as they took in the view together.

“Yes, but if you tell anyone that I will kill you and I will make it look like an accident,” he growled.

“Go on, name them, please?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Pretty please.”

“Only if you tell me why you needed to get some air,” he said, tilting her chin up with his free hand to look at him. 

She couldn’t do this. Not with him looking at her like that. On a rooftop under the starlight for gods’ sakes. Could the location be any more romantic?

Aelin stepped out from under his arm and shook her head; he handed her his jacket. She took it gratefully and tried to ignore the possessive look in his eye as she shrugged it on.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she whispered, turning away from him and back to the city view.

“Like what?” he asked incredulously.

“Like… like, I don’t know Rowan, like that.”

Rowan scoffed; she could see him staring at her in her peripheral. “Like what, Aelin?”

“Did you know that some anthropologists consider the first broken and healed bone to be the first sign of human civilisation?” Aelin asked without turning to look at him, she couldn’t make herself look at him, not yet.

“No, I didn’t,” Rowan replied, with an edge to his voice that suggested he wasn’t going to humour her for long.

“Because in the animal kingdom, if an animal breaks a bone, it dies. No one is going to stick around and help it heal. But that first person to have a broken bone heal... someone loved them and cared about them enough to take the time to bind the wound and carry them to safety and nurse them back to health.”

“Aelin what does that have to do with- -” he started, but she stopped him with a raised hand.

“Just let me finish. Hospitals like this, we are the foundation of humanity. We care for the sick and the dying. We are surrounded by people who need us every day. I convinced myself for such a long time that I was okay with just being needed. Who needs love when humanity needs you. In that situation, thousands of years ago, I would have been the one doing the healing.

“And I was okay with that. I was lucky enough to be loved once. Sam would have done anything for me, and maybe you only get that once.

“But then I met you. You healed me, Rowan, when no one else had even noticed that I was broken.

“And now I have all these feelings for you that are most definitely not friendly. And I know that you probably don’t even feel the same way and that’s okay, I swear, but I can’t do this. I can’t pretend that I don’t feel the way about you that I do. And I can’t fucking concentrate on being your friend with you looking at me like that!” she was yelling now, tears freely running down her cheeks. 

A silence settled between the two of them, uncomfortable in a way it never had been before.

“Rowan?” she whispered in a voice so small she barely recognised it as her own. She reached out to grab his hand, but he jerked it away. Oh gods, what had she done? She heard the splat of her heart as it hit the concrete of the roof.

He was an attending for gods’ sake, and she was just a stupid, stupid intern.

“Aelin,” he sighed, voice cold in a way she hadn’t heard since they had first met, “I can’t.”

She was so stupid. Of course, he couldn’t feel the same. She felt her face burning as she willed it to return to neutral. She would not let him see how much she was hurting. Not to save face, but to save him. She knew Rowan cared about her as a friend; she would not make him feel guilty because she had let her stupid heart run away with itself.

She wouldn’t put him through anything close to what she was currently feeling.

“I am so sorry.” She backed away from him “Just forget I said anything, I lied earlier, I’ve had a few too many glasses of champagne; it’s all gone to my head. Just forget it.”

Rowan looked at her and she knew that he didn’t believe a word she was saying. He knew her too well.

“You know me,” she laughed unconvincingly, slowly making her way to the door of the roof, “a couple of drinks and some music and I start spouting some utter bullshit.”

Rowan made to step towards her, but seemed to think better of it. She swallowed the lump in her throat and painted on a smile.

“I think I should go,” she said, reaching for the door. “Aedion will pick me up. I’ll see you tomorrow. Good luck with the donors.”

“Aelin--“ Rowan began, but she was already out the gone.

Aelin managed to hold it together as she walked through the hospital, down to the parking lot. She held it together as she called Aedion, and as she waited for him to arrive. She even managed to hold it together for the journey home with Aedion asking questions about her night. In fact, she held it together right up until the moment she was tucked up in her own bed with the door firmly closed.

At which point, she promptly succumbed to sobs that wracked through her whole body.

She had ruined everything.

_Rowan_

He had ruined everything.

He’d been doomed from the moment Aelin opened the door wearing that fucking dress. In fact, Rowan had been doomed from the moment he caught the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life sneaking out of his best friend’s bedroom.

He kept playing that moment on the roof over and over in his head, the way her face had crumpled as he pulled away his hand. Why had he done that? Obviously he felt the same way; she was Aelin, how could he not? And how could she have believed a word he’d said when he hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off of her all night?

But what he had said was true, in a sense: he couldn’t.

She could risk losing her entire career should anyone find out they were actually involved. The rumours had been annoying, but he hadn’t been that worried since there was no truth behind them, nothing solid to hold against Aelin in the future.

If they actually became involved, would they even be allowed to work together anymore? Would he still be able to mentor her? She had too much potential for him to help her possibly risk her future goals. All she had spoken about since the day they’d met was how much her career meant to her. He could shove down his own feelings for her if it meant she got to study what she loved to become the surgeon he knew she could be. 

And there was Fenrys. The first time Rowan had met Aelin, she had been sneaking out of his room. They were friends now, but was Fenrys still interested in her?

And in that moment, up on the roof, the worst thing of all?

None of any of that had mattered. All he’d wanted was to pull her into his arms and kiss her until he forgot any name but hers. Forgot every name. Including Lyria’s. He had spent a lot of time and energy in therapy to finally get him to a point where he knew that he deserved to be happy, deserved to move on, but he hadn’t been prepared for quite how happy he had felt in that moment.

And Aelin would have understood if he had just said any of those things. But instead he had let her leave, thinking that he didn’t feel the same.

Maybe that was for the best.


	18. I Loved You Then (And I Love You Now)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my angels, I've been very busy laying out in the sun and reading so this chapter took a wee bit longer than I intended. I didn't mean to leave you all hanging I swear. On that note I really recommend Serpent and Dove since you all clearly love enemies to lovers (a witch and a witchhunter what more could you want). So enjoy the chapter! Love you all <3

_Aelin_

She hadn’t slept at all, just lain awake staring at the ceiling fan, playing his words over in her head.

_I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t._

She watched him pull away his hand on a loop, over and over, until she gave up on sleep and roused herself from her bed. Even then, she saw it when she closed her eyes.

She understood, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. This was why she had spent years not letting anybody in; look what happened when she did. He had seen every dark and twisted part of her, he had held her and dried her tears, and he didn’t want her. Obviously. How could anybody actually truly know her, and still want her? 

She would allow herself one day of avoiding him and then it would have to be business as usual. She wouldn’t let her career suffer because she hadn’t been able to keep her stupid heart in check. Rowan not returning her feelings was a blessing really, she told herself; the medicine should come first. She would be needed, and that was enough. 

She didn’t need to be loved.

_Rowan_

Aelin wouldn’t look at him.

She was acting like nothing had happened, and she wouldn’t look at him. It was scary how easily she pretended that the other night hadn’t happened. She had told him she was too hungover for their lesson via text, but when he saw her on rounds later in the morning she was joking with her cousin like nothing had happened at all. Smiling so convincingly he had almost believed it. But he had seen it in her eyes; he’d hurt her in a way that he wasn’t sure they could come back from.

He had deliberately asked the interns questions he knew she knew the answers to when their morning rounds had taken them into the room of one of his patients, but she hadn’t answered. When Manon Blackbeak had asked who was on peds that day, Aelin’s hand shot right up.

She was meant to be on his service that day, but somehow she’d persuaded Havilliard to swap with her, so now Rowan was stuck with an intern who didn’t know his arse from his elbow. Aelin was willingly spending the day with Lorcan Salvaterre and a bunch of screaming children instead of him. She never gave up cardio cases. He had once watched her bite her cousin when he’d gotten in her way. But she was willingly giving up a heart transplant to avoid him.

How the fuck was he going to fix this?

Four days later, and Aelin still hadn’t looked at him. She had returned to his lessons, and she was back on his service, but gone was their easy camaraderie. She was clearly trying so hard to act normal, but it wasn’t working. She ducked away every time they came close to touching, she wouldn’t argue with him even when he baited her, and she’d even stopped accepting rides in the mornings. He missed her so much it hurt.

He hadn’t realized how much she had worked her way into his life until she was gone. He missed eating lunch with her and driving to work with her. He missed her smile and her laugh. He even missed her mercilessly teasing him. In fact, he probably missed that most of all.

“And so, if you cracked the chest and found that the mitral valve was beyond repair what would you do then?” Rowan asked from his seat at his desk. Aelin sat across from him but unlike before, she sat unnaturally still, hands in her lap, spine ramrod straight. Essentially, she looked uncomfortable. He hated it. She used to sprawl out in her chair as if she was in her own home, throwing her feet up on his desk irreverently.

“If there was a replacement valve on hand I’d switch to a replacement surgery.” she replied, seemingly very interested in a spot above his head.

“And what types of valves are available to replace a damaged valve?”

“Mechanical or tissue.”

“Good.”

Uncomfortable silence filled the room as he shuffled with his papers, trying to find a new topic to fill the silence. This was usually the point in the morning at which they’d give up all pretense of learning, and Aelin would catch him up on all the drama occurring between the other interns. He vaguely wondered what was happening between Manon Blackbeak and Dorian Havilliard since Aelin had last gossiped with him. Nothing good, he would bet.

“If that’s all, I’ll head off then,” Aelin said, examining her fingernails with the same interest she’d had for the spot above his head. He guessed the appeal of both was that they didn’t look like him.

“Aelin…” he sighed, not even really sure what he was going to say but relishing the feeling of her name on his lips.

“I’ll get there, Rowan,” she said gently. “I promise things can go back to normal; I don’t want to lose you. I just need some time, to get over how fucking humiliated I am.”

He wanted to reply that she had nothing to be ashamed of. That he felt the godsdamn same way she did. But for the second time in a week, his mouth failed him. He watched, unable to speak, as she gathered her things and left. It seemed all he was doing these days was watching her leave.

“FENRYS, STOP PUTTING EMPTY MILK BOTTLES BACK IN THE FRIDGE,” Rowan roared as he slammed the fridge shut.

Fenrys strolled into the kitchen, yawning. It was 3am and he had just finished a shift at the bar. He brought with him the stink of cigarettes and tequila, which shouldn’t have reminded him of Aelin... but it seemed everything did lately.

“Geez, who pissed in your cornflakes?” Fenrys snapped back at him, taking a seat at the breakfast bar.

“Well no one, actually. Because I can’t have any cornflakes. Because there isn’t any fucking milk.”

“Why are you even awake?” Fenrys asked, as if only just realizing the time. Rowan was usually long asleep or getting ready for work at this hour.

“Can’t sleep.” He hadn’t slept well since the night on the roof. Just kept lying awake, missing the feeling of Aelin’s body next to him. He even missed her snoring.

“You’ve been in a foul mood for days. What the hell is going on with you?” Fenrys sighed. 

Rowan felt momentarily guilty for taking his irritation out on him. But then he remembered that he was part of the problem, and he went back to wanting to punch him a little bit.

He knew, logically, that it wasn’t fair to hold it against Fenrys that he’d slept with Aelin. Especially when Rowan would have done exactly the same if the situation had been less… complicated. But the thought of Fenrys touching her, of her touching him, made him sick to his stomach.

“Nothing.”

“Liar. You’ve been grumpy since the night of the fundraiser…” realisation bloomed on Fenrys’ face. “That’s it, isn’t it? Something happened with Aelin at the fundraiser?”

Rowan debated denying it, but he just didn’t have the energy. What was it they said? ‘A problem shared is a problem halved’?

“Aelin told me she had feelings for me.” He sighed, scrubbing at his face with a hand.

Fenrys’ jaw visibly dropped. “And that’s a problem because...?”

“Well, because, you know,” Rowan spluttered, waving a hand in Fenrys’ direction.

Fenrys looked confused, cocking his head at Rowan in concentration. You could practically see the cogs in his head turning. And then… lightbulb. He began to howl with laughter, so much so that he almost fell off his chair. He laughed until there were tears pooling in his eyes. Rowan snarled at him slightly.

“You stupid son of a bitch,” Fenrys wheezed out in between breaths. “Is this because you think I slept with Aelin? Is this about the fucking bro code?”

Rowan growled at him again, gripping the counter so hard his knuckles turned white. But wait… “Think?” he asked. “As in, you didn’t?”

“No, I didn’t, you stupid prick. And if Aelin ever found out that the reason you rejected her is because of some patriarchal bullshit she would literally murder both of us.”

“It’s not like that. It’s more complicated.”

Fenrys raised an eyebrow and looked unimpressed.

“I mean, yeah, that had crossed my mind. But only because I didn’t want to step on your toes, because you’re my best friend,” Rowan sighed.

He knew all too well that nobody had any claim to Aelin but Aelin. It wasn’t that he thought Fenrys had dibs, or any similar macho bullshit. But if his best friend had feelings for her, that could obviously cause some issues.

“Even if I did like Aelin, and by the way I don’t as anything more than a friend,” Fenrys replied, shaking his head at Rowan, “anyone can see you two are made for each other or whatever.”

Rowan’s traitorous heart stumbled at this new piece of information. As if this changed anything. There were still a million reasons that he couldn’t tell Aelin he felt the same. Mostly, the fact that he was still her attending and that wasn’t going to change any time soon.

“So,” Fenrys began, getting up to rifle through the cupboard in search of food, “why exactly are you still here and not going to tell Aelin that you feel the same?”

“I told you, it’s complicated.”

Fenrys turned to look at him, still unimpressed. _U_ _ncomplicate it,_ his face said.

“I’m her attending! If anyone found out, it could ruin her career before it’s even begun.”

Fenrys began to laugh again, and Rowan seriously considered throttling him. He’d watched Criminal Minds, he reckoned he could get away with murder. He wouldn’t make any rookie mistakes, that was for sure. And who would ever suspect him, a well-respected doctor?

“You really are a stupid, stupid prick,” Fenrys laughed.

Rowan glared at him.

“Does Aelin know all of that?” Fenrys asked.

“Obviously.”

“And she told you how she felt anyway?”

“Yes.”

“So obviously, she doesn’t care. She’s made her choice.”

“Well, what if I don’t want to help her ruin her career?” Rowan snapped.

“Fine, be miserable. I’m just saying that none of this is new information to her. She has all the facts, and she chose to tell you anyway. So obviously, none of it matters to her.”

And suddenly it all clicked into place. 

Fenrys was right. How could he have been so blinded by his desire to protect her? Aelin was a grown woman; it was insulting her ability to make choices about her own life to not give her all the facts. She had been through hell to keep her relationship with Arobynn a secret, she knew all too well what the consequences of their relationship could be. But she had told him how she felt anyway. Because she was brave. And he was a fucking coward. He had just been hiding behind the excuse of protecting her. He had been protecting himself, not her. Because he was afraid of how much he felt for her. Feelings that he had never felt for anybody, not even Lyria. Aelin was his friend, and his partner, and his equal in every way.

He loved her, he realized with a start.

He was in love with Aelin Galathynius.

When Rowan surfaced from his thoughts, Fenrys was looking at him, grinning.

“Go get the girl, you stupid fucking prick.”

_Aelin_

Rain was pounding down on her windows as Aelin lay awake. She had awoken from a nightmare. The same one as always, but this time it had been Rowan who drove a blade through her heart. She knew she had to get over it soon or risk losing him forever. But looking at him hurt, being in the same room as him hurt. It all just fucking hurt.

Ironically, the only person she wanted to talk to about it was Rowan. She wanted him to hold her and tell her it was all going to be okay. But after her confession, she didn’t know if they’d ever regain the casual intimacy they had once had.

She was pulled from her thoughts by a pounding on the front door. She glanced at her phone. 3:45am. Who would be at the door at this hour? Her heart contracted in fear; could it be Arobynn at the door? Lysandra wasn’t home, she was staying at Aedion’s. Aelin was all alone in the house.

If she crept to the top of the stairs she could peek down at the window in the door without being spotted and, if need be, call the police. She tiptoed to the top of the stairs and poked her head over the banisters to look. She saw a flash of silver hair.

Rowan?

She didn’t bother going to pull a robe on over her nightgown, but went downstairs and pulled open the door. He was dripping wet and wasn’t wearing a coat. Before, she might have been distracted by the sight of his shirt clinging to his torso.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” she asked, not opening the door to let him in, but not slamming it in his face either.

Rowan stepped closer, reached out a hand, and placed it on her cheek, gently forcing her to look at him. She didn’t pull away, but for the first time in days looked into his eyes. She had almost forgotten how beautiful they were.

“Aelin, I don’t want to be your fucking friend.” And then he surged forward, and his lips were on hers.

It took a moment for her brain to catch up with the fact that Rowan was kissing her. Rowan was kissing her. Rowan was kissing her, and she wasn’t kissing him back. He nipped gently at her lip, and she moved forward to kiss him back properly.

In all the times she’d imagined kissing him, it hadn’t been like this. She’d imagined wandering hands and rough touches borne of frustration. Instead, he was kissing her softly and passionately, he was kissing her like he felt the same way she did. She’d never understood what people meant when they said they saw fireworks, but as one of Rowan’s hands traced her cheekbone and the other came to rest on her bare back, pulling her against his chest, she didn’t just see fireworks. She saw godsdamn explosions. She moaned softly against his lips, and when he slipped his tongue into her mouth it would have only just been an exaggeration to say her knees went weak.

“Wait, wait, wait... “ she pushed him away, taking a few steps backwards. He looked dazed and his lips were all red and swollen; she almost lost her resolve and pulled him back in. “You can’t just show up on my doorstep at 3am and kiss me in the rain and think that everything is suddenly okay.”

He grinned at her, radiant and unrestrained, and oh gods she was so entirely and completely fucked. She was going to spend her entire life trying to make him smile exactly like that.

She sighed as he kissed her again, losing her resolve as quickly as she had found it.

“This conversation isn’t over,” she said between kisses.

She felt Rowan laugh as he kissed down her neck. 

"I feel the same way you do, if that wasn't obvious from the kissing," he mumbled against the skin of her throat.

Maybe the conversation could be over for now. 

  
  
  



	19. We Wrote A Story (In The Fog On The Windows)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *greatest showman voice* ladies and gents this is the moment you've been waiting for, it's about to get HOT IN HERE. Right, so the biggest shoutout to @girldani for making sure this chapter wasn't awkward, make sense and encouraging me to do it. The first section especially only makes sense because of her. I wasn't sure I'd be able to write it but I persevered and this is what happened. Be gentle, it's my first time (but clearly not Rowan's hehe) writing smut. ENJOY (I know Aelin did) <3

_Aelin_

Rowan stepped further into the house and closed the door behind him with a small smile still on his face that made Aelin’s knees go slightly weak. He wordlessly pulled her to his chest, spinning them round so his body pressed hers against the door, and she instinctively hitched a leg up around his waist. He continued to trail languid kisses down the column of her throat, like they had all the time in the world (which she really hoped they did). She wanted to take her time, learn every inch of Rowan’s body, study it more closely than she ever had done with any other partner, or even with any of the patients’ bodies she’d studied in medical school. He seemed intent on doing the same with her. 

Aelin let out a quiet gasp as his teeth brushed her pulse point, and Rowan’s hand tightened on her hip. His other hand was idly tracing shapes on her bare thigh, leaving goosebumps in its wake. She pulled his head back up to meet his lips in a searing kiss, a hand buried in his hair, not able to do without his lips on hers for a second longer.

She still couldn’t quite wrap her head around the fact that this was happening; it felt as though she was in danger of waking up at any moment. All the times she’d been distracted by his nimble fingers, she’d never thought she would actually ever get to feel them sliding down her thigh, heat from his hands dissipating the chill on her bare legs.

“You’re cold,” he murmured at the feel of her chilled skin.

“I told you,” she mumbled, not breaking the kiss, “I have terrible circulation.”

She wasn’t sure if it was the sound of her voice or the realization that she was in her nightgown and he was soaking wet that brought Rowan back to reality, but something did, and he slowly moved his head back to look at her. He didn’t step away or remove his hands, just stared at her, catching his breath.

“We should talk,” he sighed, sounding as if he’d much rather not, and gently moving away so she could stand. 

“Fine,” Aelin pouted, despite the fact that she had been the one who’d wanted to talk moments ago. But that had been before he’d gotten his hands on her. She turned around to walk up the stairs, not waiting to see if he’d follow. “But if you talk too slowly I might just take my nightgown off.”

She heard Rowan curse under his breath and clamber after her, and she may have swayed her hips more than usual as she waltzed up the stairs and into her bedroom. Rowan leaned against the doorframe, watching as she hopped up to sit on her chest of drawers. His darkened eyes traced the curve of her barely concealed frame; her nightgown left very little to the imagination.

“Are you just going to stand in the doorway?” Aelin asked with an arch of her eyebrow.

“Until we’ve had a conversation, yes,” Rowan replied through gritted teeth.

“Because you’ll be unable to keep your hands off me if you step any further into the room?”

Rowan’s answering laugh sent chills down her spine. The good kind. “Do you know how hard it’s been to keep away from you?”

Her heart sputtered slightly and she pressed her thighs together as Rowan’s eyes skimmed her bare legs.

“I have some idea,” she replied with a smile “Tell me anyway.”

Rowan swallowed and she could have sworn she heard the splinter of wood from where his hand gripped the doorframe, his knuckles white.

“But first,” she smirked, “shirt off; you’re dripping on my floor.”

Rowan replied by bringing his hands to the hem of his soaked t-shirt and slowly peeling it up and off, revealing inch by inch his gloriously tanned and muscled skin. Seriously, he had no business looking like that when she knew for a fact he spent most of his time cooped up in the hospital. 

She dragged her eyes back up to his face to see him smirking right back at her. She thought having Rowan in a similar amount of clothing as her would make her feel more in control, but instead she felt hot and breathless.

“I don’t think there’s any going back from this,” Rowan admitted. “I don’t want to go to work and pretend that I don’t feel the way I do about you, and there might be consequences for that.”

“I know, I’d prepared myself for consequences when…” she trailed off, but the unsaid words lingered in the air between them: _when I told you how I felt and you rejected me._

“Aelin…” Rowan whispered softly, finally stepping into the room and coming to stand between her legs, placing a hand on her cheek, just as he had at the door. “I’m so sorry for what happened on the roof. I didn’t mean it, I was just scared. Scared of how important you are to me. Scared of how much I do feel for you.”

Tears pooled in her eyes against her will, but she refused to let them fall. This was a happy moment, the past was gone, no point dwelling over it. Especially when she had a shirtless Rowan standing between her bare legs.

“I understand if you’re not ready to rush into anything. I know you said you feel the same but if you’re not ready for this yet, I can wait.”

That was a lie; she couldn’t wait. But for Rowan, if he still needed time to process what had happened with Lyria, she would wait. She’d probably wait forever for him.

“I don’t need you to wait.” Rowan ran a thumb over her bottom lip and she felt a rush of heat between her legs “This is it for me. You’re it for me.”

“Consequences can go fuck themselves,” she replied, wrapping her legs around his waist and pulling him against her. “You’re it for me too.”

“We’ll deal with all of it together.”

“Together,” she agreed.

“That’s all I have to say,” Rowan grinned at her, “but I think you promised that if I kept talking you’d take your clothes off?’

Aelin laughed softly and looped her arms around his neck, leaning in close enough to kiss him, but let her lips hover millimeters from his instead.

“If you think there’s any chance of my clothes staying on tonight, you clearly haven’t looked in a mirror lately,” she whispered.

They both dropped the pretense of having any self-control around each other right then and there.

He crashed his lips against hers, burying one hand in her hair, the other coming to rest on her bare thigh again. Rowan kissed the same way he argued: unrelenting and skilled, his lips and teeth and tongue meeting hers in the most convincing argument he’d ever made

Aelin dropped her lips to his shoulder, placing hot open-mouthed kisses on his skin, and he let out a soft groan as she ghosted her hands across the hard ridges of his stomach. Not to be outdone, Rowan brought the hand that had been buried in her hair down to cup her breast, brushing his thumb across the peak of her nipple. She arched into his touch, gasping against the skin of his neck as the hand on her thigh travelled further up towards the place where she desperately wanted it to be.

“Is this okay?” he asked, voice low, and gods just the sound of his voice was doing it for her.

She nodded frantically, not trusting her mouth’s ability to form words at that moment in time.

“Words, Aelin.” He pinched her thigh gently.

“Yes, yes, more,” she breathed, moving her head up to join their mouths once more.

She felt him hiss as he discovered the lack of underwear underneath her nightgown, and her breath caught in her throat as he swiped his fingers against the wetness between her thighs, bringing his thumb up to rub firmly at her clit. She was already so wet, and he’d barely touched her. 

Aelin gasped as he slid a finger inside her, and crooked in a way that made her see stars. “Fuck,” she moaned as his finger continued to move inside her and he added a second, hitting a spot inside of her that made her toes curl.

Rowan brought his other hand to tug at her bottom of her nightgown. “Off,” he growled, and she happily obliged, pulling the silky fabric over her head.

She didn’t miss the way his breath hitched as she revealed her lean and naked body. She knew she looked good naked; all the hours in the gym and the time spent on her feet at the hospital had paid off, but it was always nice to have it confirmed. Especially when she was so affected by the sight of him shirtless, it was good to know she wasn’t alone.

“Aelin…” he groaned, dropping his head to her shoulder, “you are so fucking gorgeous. Fuck.”

“I know,” she laughed softly, but it turned into a moan as he moved his head further down, closing his lips around her nipple. Her hips bucked against his hand and fuck she was so close already.

“Bed. Now,” she gasped, and she whined softly as he moved both his hands to her ass and picked her up, moving over to the bed and lowering her down with a level of care that almost brought tears to her eyes.

Rowan’s breath was ragged as he lay her against the pillows, moving his body down until his head was between her legs, and pinning down her hips with his hands. He looked up at her and gods, the sight of him like that made her want to burst into flames. He began to place kisses along the inside of one of her thighs, wet and hot and nowhere near where she wanted his lips to be. Just as she was about to tell him to _get a move on godsdamn it_ , he sucked her clit into his mouth and oh gods oh gods. If she’d thought his hands were talented, they had nothing on his mouth. She was never going to be able to focus on his instructions during surgeries again, not when she knew what his mouth could do.

“Rowan,” she gasped, her hips bucking but held firmly down by his hands, “fuck, shit, fuck.”

He moved one of his hands from her hip and slipped two fingers back inside of her as he flicked at her clit with his tongue. He was right, there was no going back from this, she never wanted to go back from this. She never wanted to do anything other than this ever again.

“You taste so fucking good,” Rowan groaned from between her thighs, and that was her undoing. She arched up as her orgasm overcame her, curses falling from her lips mixed in with a chant of his name over and over. Rowan continued to move his fingers, working her through it until she grasped at his hair and pulled him up to kiss her, dirty and hot and wet.

They both pulled away, and Rowan lay his head on her shoulder, catching his breath. He traced lazy circles on her stomach with the tip of his finger as her heart rate returned to a steadier beat.

“If I’d known all I had to do to get you to be quiet for more than a few seconds was go down on you, I would have done it sooner,” Rowan laughed, placing a kiss on her shoulder.

“If you fuck me I’ll be quiet for even longer,” she replied, still slightly breathless, and reached down to palm him through his jeans.

Rowan cursed under his breath as his hips jerked forward into her hand.

“Not if I’m doing it right,” he growled, kicking off his shoes and pulling off his jeans and underwear, giving her a perfect view of his hard cock. Lysandra owed her $20. Aelin had told her it would be big. “Besides, I rather like the sound of your voice. Especially if you keep saying things like that.”

“Like what?” she breathed, mouth slightly dry at the sight of him. “Like asking you to please fuck me?”

Rowan’s cock twitched in response and she reached down a hand to wrap around it. His hips bucked as she ran her thumb over the tip.

“Condom?” Rowan asked through gritted teeth.

Aelin reluctantly let go of him and reached over into her bedside drawer to pull out a condom. She always kept them there, but they’d not exactly been getting much use recently. She rolled back over to see Rowan lazily stroking himself, and she almost combusted at the sight. Gods he was so beautiful, and he was in her bed, and he wanted her. There was a look on his face that she couldn’t quite place as she handed him the condom.

“What are you thinking?” she asked gently as he tore open the packet and rolled it on. Lysandra probably owed her more than $20 for how wrong she’d been.

“I’m thinking,” Rowan replied, dropping a kiss to her lips, “that I’m never going to be able to focus at work again now that I know what you look like under your scrubs.”

Things were going to be different, that was for sure. In that moment though, as Rowan intertwined their hands, anchoring them next to her head as he lined himself up with her entrance, Aelin couldn’t bring herself to care. Nothing mattered but Rowan. The look of him, the smell of him, the sound that he made as he finally entered her. That was all that mattered.

Aelin fully intended to make some sarcastic, teasing comment in return but he pushed his cock all the way inside her and her words got stuck in her throat. All she could do was try to catch her breath.

“You good?” he groaned, squeezing her hand slightly, not moving just yet. Giving her time to adjust to the sizable length of him.

“More than good.” She wrapped a leg around his waist, digging her heel into the muscle of his back.

That was enough for Rowan; he began to move his hips, setting a torturously slow pace. His breath was hot and coming in pants on her neck. Every place that their bodies touched felt like it was on fire, nothing had ever felt quite so right. Rowan was hers; she was his. She had been right; her hands had been built to hold him. Aelin let out a soft moan as he let go of one of her hands to move his fingers down to rub at her clit. She buried a hand in his hair, tugging at the short silver strands as he brought his lips to hers.

“Please Rowan, faster,” she gasped into his mouth.

She felt as if she was going to burst into flames as Rowan’s hips snapped against hers, pounding harder and faster. The sounds coming from her mouth were a poor imitation of words, a mix of moans and curses mixed with his name.

“That’s it Aelin, let me hear you,” he panted, leaning down to bite at the skin of her neck. He was going to leave marks, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. “Gods, you feel so fucking perfect.”

“Fuck, Rowan, yes, so good. I’m so close.”

His thrusts were getting sloppier and his body was tense above her as he rubbed a little faster at her clit. “Come on babe, come on, come for me,” Rowan gasped, kissing her hard and wet and she actually whimpered at the word ‘babe’ falling from his lips.

She wasn’t sure if it was the sound of his voice or the feeling of his fingers that sent her over the edge but she came hard to the sound of his voice in her ear. _Aelin, Aelin, Aelin, come on babe_. Rowan was right behind her, burying his head into the crook of her neck as she shook and spasmed and he went rigid with a whisper of her name that sounded more like something between a prayer and a curse word.

They were both breathing heavily, sweaty and sated, as Rowan moved off of her and disposed of the condom in the small trash can beside her bed, before rolling back over to face her. He reached over and brushed her hair away from her face with a soft smile. She’d never been one to wax poetic, but if there was sight that merited it, it was the sight of a post-coital Rowan Whitethorn. He looked positively wrecked, and she knew she definitely looked the same.

“That was…” Rowan began but he trailed off, watching the curve of her body as she rolled to her side to face him fully.

“Don’t worry, you’re not the first person to go mute at the sight of me naked,” she teased, leaning her head on his shoulder.

Rowan huffed out a laugh, wrapping an arm around her waist and dropping a kiss on the top of her head. She’d thought she had known contentment, but she hadn’t, not really. Nothing compared to this.

“I seem to remember you saying something about the sight of me making you want to take your clothes off, so I wouldn’t get too cocky,” he laughed, voice still gravelly.

“Hmmm, and I seem to recall you mentioning something about how hard it had been to stay away from me,” she hummed, nipping gently at his shoulder with her teeth.

“You have no idea.”

“So, tell me.”

Rowan began tracing circles on her bare hip, just as he had done earlier.

“I’ve wanted you since the second I first saw you,” he admitted softly.

“I thought you hated me.”

“I hated that I couldn’t have you, I hated that I thought you were young and irresponsible, but I could never hate you.” He dropped another kiss to her head. “You are the smartest, most beautiful, most infuriating woman I have ever met.”

Aelin pushed up on her elbows so she could look him in the eyes, and pressed a kiss to his cheek, then the corner of his mouth, then a chaste kiss to his lips.

“I miss you the second you leave a room,” he continued. “You’re the only person who makes me laugh every day, the first person I think about in the mornings. I see all of you, Aelin, and I love every part of you.”

Aelin’s heart spluttered. “You love me?” she whispered.

“I love you,” he replied, placing a hand over her heart. “I see you, and I love you.”

Aelin felt as though her soul might just leave her body on the spot. Rowan loved her. Rowan loved her. Rowan loved her.

“I love you too, Rowan. I see all of you, and I love you.”

Rowan’s answering kiss set every bone in her body on fire.

Aelin was no longer just needed. She was loved.

  
  
  



	20. I Think He Knows (He Better Lock It Down)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So basically I have a tiktok addiction and that's why this chapter took so long. But I did go viral so it was kinda worth it. Anyway this is just Aelin and Rowan flirting with each other for a whole chapter so enjoy.

Aelin felt bad for all the people in the world who hadn’t woken up to the sight of a rumpled Rowan Whitethorn in their bed; every single other person in the world truly was missing out. She glanced at her time on her phone, 6am. They clearly weren’t going in early for a lesson that morning… to say they hadn’t gotten much sleep would be an understatement.

“Good morning.” She nudged Rowan slightly and placed a lingering kiss on his cheek.

“Mmmm it is, isn’t it?” he replied, opening his eyes and lazily running them over her still naked form and looking very pleased with himself as he spotted the marks on her neck. She knew that if he turned over there’d be a fresh set of scratch marks down his back. Marking him as hers.

“Nuh-uh mister,” she tutted, flushing slightly under his gaze. “We’ll be late for work if you keep looking at me like that.”

Rowan rolled over her before she could blink, pressing her into the mattress and nuzzling his head into the crook of her neck. She went tingly all over, remembering the way he had done the same the night before, all hot and sweaty and groaning her name. There was no way they could be late for rounds, especially as a few of the nosier nurses definitely would have noticed their absence in Rowan’s office that morning.

“I’m never going to want to get out of bed in the mornings if you’re with me,” he mumbled. “This could become a problem.”

“I, very sadly, need to shower,” she sighed, pushing Rowan away and climbing out of bed.

She looked over her shoulder as she left the room. Rowan looked like a painting, the golden morning light falling on his naked body, barely covered by soft white sheets. He was pouting in a way she never thought she’d see the almighty Rowan Whitethorn stoop to do. Gods, she felt like her heart was going to leap from her chest with happiness. Would the novelty of having a naked Rowan in her bed ever wear off? Or was she fated to die young of cardiac arrest because he removed his clothing? That would be an ironic way to die, at the very least.

“Are you going to join me?” she asked with a teasing wink. At least she’d die happy.

He practically fell out of bed in his hurry to chase after her.

Rowan smelled like her shampoo and his hand was warm on her knee as he drove them to the hospital. It was still raining as it had been the night before, fat droplets of water fell on the windshield before being wiped away. Her eyes were threatening to drift closed, lulled by the sound of the rain pounding on the car roof.

“Hey.” Rowan squeezed her knee as they approached the hospital. “Are you ready for this?”

There wasn’t even a trace of hesitation within her. Rowan was hers and she didn’t care what consequences came with that. She wanted, no needed, everyone to know that he belonged to her and she belonged to him.

“Born ready,” she grinned, taking a moment to double-check in the visor mirror that the turtleneck she’d slipped on under her scrubs fully covered the marks on her neck.

“There is something serious we need to discuss before anything else happens though. There’s something I need to know.” Rowan’s face was suddenly stony as he parked the car, turning to look at her as he killed the engine.

A sense of unease settled over her. What could Rowan possibly need to ask her? What made it “serious”? Oh gods, maybe he wasn’t ready for this, had she pushed him too far?

“Yeah?” she answered hesitantly.

Rowan took a deep breath. “You have got to tell me what’s been happening with Manon and Dorian; I have been dying to know.”

“Oh gods, don’t scare me like that,” Aelin yelled, hitting him on the arm lightly. “But, if you must know... they were definitely having sex in one of the on-call rooms last week.”

“Inevitable,” Rowan smirked, linking their hands. “Saw that coming a mile away.” 

“You know, I’ve always wanted to have sex in an on-call room,” Aelin replied wickedly.

“Have you now?”

Aelin nodded, leaning towards him to join their lips but he leaned away.

“Later,” he sighed, squeezing her hand. “Let’s not get caught kissing in the parking lot before we talk to HR, please.”

Aelin sighed melodramatically; all she wanted was to kiss her boyfriend in the parking lot. Wait- was he her boyfriend? Gods, they’d really done this all backwards. She knew that he loved her, he’d told her as much, but she didn’t know if he was her boyfriend or not. Normally, she’d probably avoid having the ‘what are we’ conversation for as long as she could. But Rowan was different, and if they were going to speak to HR they should probably know what it was actually about.

“Are you my boyfriend now?” she blurted out before she could stop herself, blushing furiously.

Rowan looked at her and blinked, startled by the sheer volume at which she’d asked the question. It had taken her about 3 weeks to ask Sam whether they were actually together, and she’d never dared to ask Arobynn. ‘Boyfriend’ didn’t really feel like it even covered how much Rowan meant to her, but it would be a good start.

“I mean, yeah, if you’ll have me,” Rowan replied, and then began to laugh.

“What about me being your girlfriend is funny, Rowan Whitethorn?” she demanded.

Rowan reached out and brushed a thumb across her cheek tenderly.

“I just find it funny that last night you asked me to fuck you without hesitation, but right now you’re blushing scarlet at the thought of me being your boyfriend,” he laughed. “And I was planning to ask you to be my girlfriend, I just hadn’t intended to do it in the hospital parking lot.”

Aelin felt fuzzy and warm and like she was going to cry. “I love you,” she smiled at him softly, tears pricking her eyes.

“I love you, too.”

“What I hear when you say that is that we can have sex in an on-call room after we go talk to HR,” she replied with a smirk. 

“You’re a menace.”

“You love me,” she teased, undoing her seatbelt and climbing not-so-gracefully out of the car.

“Yeah, I do.”

Aelin and Rowan walked into the hospital side by side, just as they did every morning. It was exactly like every other morning they had arrived together. But it also wasn’t anything like those days. Unlike those days, Rowan’s hand brushed hers every couple of steps, sending shivers down her spine. Unlike those days, she wanted to shove him into the nearest closet and have her way with him.

Okay, maybe that part was exactly like all the other days.

“So, we’ll meet at lunch to go to HR?” Rowan asked, nudging her out of her thoughts with his shoulder.

She nodded, somewhat distractedly. If he didn’t want her to be distracted by how much she wanted him, he should stop being so fucking attractive, really.

“You have got to stop looking at me like that,” Rowan growled under his breath. “I can see everything you’re thinking and my self control does have its limits.”

Aelin looked at him through her lashes “And what if I don’t want to stop looking at you like this?”

Rowan cursed under his breath and ducked his head so his lips were right next to her ear.

“Go to rounds, and I promise I’ll show you what if later.” he whispered, breath hot against her skin.

Aelin shivered, shot him a grin, and skipped off to the intern’s locker room. When she glanced back at him over her shoulder as she stepped into the elevator, he was staring at the ceiling, lips moving in what could be either a prayer or a curse. Knowing Rowan, it was probably both.

“I need to talk to you both.” Aelin grabbed Aedion and Lysandra by the arms and pulled them into a supply closet before they reached the locker room.

“And we can’t talk in the locker room because...?” Lysandra asked with a raised brow.

“Because this is top secret for the time being,” Aelin replied, shutting the door behind them.

Aedion and Lysandra both looked at her expectantly, arms crossed like matching statues. She was yet again struck by how perfect they were for each other, but instead of the usual pang of jealousy, she just felt happy. Happy for all of them, that despite everything, they were all going to get their happy ending.

“I slept with Rowan. He told me he’s in love with me. He’s my boyfriend now.”

The looks on both their faces were priceless. Aedion’s jaw actually dropped; she’d never seen that happen outside of cartoons. Lysandra let out a squeal and crushed Aelin into a hug.

“I’m so so so so happy for you!” she squealed in her ear.

She released Aelin after a few moments, grinning at her manically. She’d known Lys would be happy for her. Aedion however, she was concerned about. She looked over at him slowly, preparing to see a look of disapproval on his face. He didn’t look angry though, just slightly concerned.

“How’s this going to affect your career?” he asked stiffly.

“Rowan and I will deal with whatever happens together.”

Aedion clenched his jaw, uncrossed, then recrossed his arms. “You promise this isn’t an Arobynn situation?”

Aelin nodded tensely. 

He took a deep breath, then he smiled at her brightly. “Then I’m happy for you. I’m always happy if you’re happy,” he grinned.

Aelin let out a sigh of relief. The hospital probably wouldn’t have been pleased if her boyfriend was involved in another brawl, especially if it involved her cousin. “I’m really happy.”

The morning rounds proceeded without anything notable, bar Manon being grumpier than usual and Dorian looking like a kicked puppy whenever she looked at him. Aelin was sure she’d hear all about that later. Before she knew it, it was time to meet Rowan to go see HR. He was waiting by the nurse’s station for her, casually leaning against the desk. Aelin noted with a small amount of satisfaction that many of the nurses were in fact checking him out as he scribbled notes onto a chart. Her boyfriend was hot.

“Hey.” She walked up behind him, knocking one of her feet against his softly. “Ready?”

Rowan looked up from his chart and gave her a smile. Aelin was pretty sure she heard some of the nurses sighing with jealousy.

“Let’s go,” he replied. “I had a thought though, after we’ve been to see HR we should also go speak to Dr. Ytger.”

Aelin hummed in agreement. She liked Dr. Ytger, and trusted that she wouldn’t penalise them for who they had fallen for. There was a small part of her that was scared of losing the other woman’s respect, but she tried not to dwell on that part.

They walked together to the HR office in silence, not uncomfortable per say, but weighted. They were both fully aware that what happened inside this office could make or break their relationship. She wasn’t even sure what she would actually do if they were told they had to break up. She couldn’t quit being a doctor, obviously. Would they just have to date in secret until the end of her internship? That never seemed to end well for people. She wouldn’t give up Rowan though. Everything about them together just felt right. She couldn’t remember a time when she’d been so fucking happy. She wouldn’t give that up.

As they rounded a corner into the empty corridor leading to the office, Rowan slid a hand around her waist and squeezed her hip.

“It’s going to be fine,” he told her under his breath.

“I know,” she replied, leaning into his touch. “Not to be dramatic or anything, but I do want you to know that no matter what they say in there, all of this is 100% worth it. You’re worth it.”

“You have no idea how worth it you are to me.” Rowan brushed a kiss to the top of her head. “Okay, let’s do this.”

They walked into the office together.

The head of HR was the one to sit them down. Aelin wasn’t sure what she had been expecting, but it wasn’t simply having to fill in a form. But that was literally all they had to do. After Rowan’s whole ‘I don’t want to ruin your career’ schtick, it actually didn’t seem to be a very big deal at all.

“So you’ll have to agree to couples counselling once a month if you want to continue working together,” the head of HR told them. Her bubblegum pink lipstick was beginning to give Aelin a headache. “And once every 4 months we’ll have to conduct a review to make sure there’s no abuse of power occurring in your working relationship. But aside from that, you’re free to go.”

Aelin glanced at Rowan, his face mirrored her own. It all felt a little too easy.

They said their goodbyes to the woman, Lydia, and left the office as fast as they could.

“Was it just me or was that a little…”

“Anticlimactic?” Rowan finished for her, with a crooked smile.

“Yeah.”

They both looked at each other for a moment and then burst into peals of laughter. It was truly ridiculous. They’d both been tiptoeing around each other over absolutely nothing. Rowan looked at her for a moment before bursting out laughing all over again. There were tears in her eyes by the time they managed to pull themselves together.

“There’ll still be the rumor mill to deal with,” Aelin said, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

“I don’t think it’ll be that bad when they find out we’re actually together,” Rowan replied. “People who are actually together are boring, nothing to speculate over.”

“Oh, we’re boring already, are we?” Aelin asked with an arch of her eyebrow.

“I don’t know,” Rowan grinned. “Why don’t you meet me in on-call room six in a few minutes and we’ll find out.”

Aelin glanced at her watch. Thirty minutes left of her break, she could use that time to go talk to Dr. Ytger, or she could meet her gorgeous boyfriend in the on-call room.

Dr. Ytger could wait.


	21. Cuts Like A Knife (But It Feels So Right)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you all forgive me for the fact that I haven't posted in two weeks. I have no excuse aside from the fact that my brain will only focus on one thing at a time. BUT this is the longest chapter so far and it is fluffy af so hopefully this will make up for it. Love you all, missed your lovely comments. ALSO I saw someone on tiktok ask for SJM fic recs and someone said this fic which is wild to me, so if you're that person I love you extra amounts. xxoxox

There was a nurse flirting with her boyfriend.

Blatantly, shamelessly and disgustingly flirting with _her_ boyfriend.

Aelin stood outside the one of the hospital rooms with Dorian, half listening to him talk about Manon Blackbeak, and half imagining all the ways she could remove the pale blonde nurse’s head from her shoulders.

“If you glare at her any more you’ll burn a hole in her scrubs,” Dorian teased, and Aelin rolled her eyes dismissively. Or, as dismissively as she could without taking her eyes of Rowan and the blonde.

“I am not glaring at her,” Aelin gritted out through her clenched teeth and resisted the urge to snarl as the nurse placed a hand on Rowan’s arm and laughed. Her laugh was high pitched and nasal and it made Aelin’s head swim. Rowan was not laughing with her.

“Her name’s Remelle, if you were wondering,” Dorian replied casually. “She’s been working her way through the attendings.”

“Don’t slut shame.” She might have wanted to make Remelle bleed profusely, but she wouldn’t tolerate slandering a fully-grown woman for the sex she may or may not be having.

“I’m not!” Dorian objected, eyes wide. “I’m just relaying the facts, which are that she’s slept with half the attendings and it looks like Dr. Whitethorn will be next.”

Aelin swallowed the lump that was forming in her throat. They hadn’t gone public with their relationship yet, though it wasn’t a secret per say; HR knew and so did Dr. Ytger (who had taken it very well and had started winking at Aelin whenever she saw her in the hallways), but they hadn’t told everyone. Which hadn’t been a problem until now. Aelin had been content to keep it to themselves for a while longer. It was even a little exciting to be keeping it on the down low, to be sneaking off into the on-call rooms together. But now, there was a nurse, flirting with _her_ boyfriend.

“He most certainly will not be next,” she snapped at Dorian, who hadn’t done anything wrong, only stand next to her.

Dorian looked at her and smiled a funny half-smile. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t care,” Aelin hissed, and looked back at Rowan.

Remelle was touching his hair. She was going to kill her. She was going to remove that hand and make her eat it. Rowan looked deeply uncomfortable and was trying to get her to stop. 

“Liar,” Dorian replied in a sing-song tone.

“I just think Rowan clearly looks uncomfortable.”

“There it is again: _Rowan._ Since when is he Rowan?” Dorian raised an eyebrow at her. “The only one who looks uncomfortable is you, babe.”

“We’re dating, okay? Me and Rowan, we’re dating.”

Dorian’s jaw visibly dropped. He blinked. Then blinked again. “Oh,” he replied. “I owe Chaol $10.”

“You and Chaol were betting on my love life?”

“Obviously. In that case, I suggest you go and intervene before Remelle tries to mount him right here on the hospital floor.” he said, giving Aelin a small shove.

She stumbled slightly and turned around to shoot Dorian a glare, but he was already talking to Manon; the boy moved fast. Her feet carried her towards Rowan and Remelle, partially without her permission.

“Hey guys,” she greeted when she reached the pair.

Remelle gave her a look that would have made a more insecure woman go running. Aelin pushed back her shoulders and looked right back at her. Remelle was beautiful, but Aelin wouldn’t allow herself to feel threatened. Rowan loved her, that was all that mattered.

“Hi Aelin, Remelle here was just telling me about an independently run Italian restaurant near here.” Rowan shot her a smirk that implied he knew exactly why she had come over to speak to them.

“Oh, was she?” Aelin replied with an arch of her brow. “I love Italian food.”

“Hmmm, I’ll take you after work one night,” Rowan said with a small smile.

Remelle looked between the two of them and pursed her lips. Aelin could practically see the cogs in her head turning, trying to figure out a way to get the attention back to her.

“I actually know one of the waiters there; they can get me a discount. You could take me one night after work.” She fluttered her eyelashes at Rowan. Aelin resisted the urge to laugh. Or punch her in the face.

Remelle reached out and placed a possessive hand on Rowan’s arm and he jerked it away.

“Do you enjoy having hands that are attached to your body?” Aelin asked her sweetly.

“What?” Remelle snapped with a toss of her ponytail.

“I asked if you enjoyed having hands that are attached to your body? Because if you don’t quit making Dr. Whitethorn uncomfortable with your unnecessary touching, I’ll cut them off.”

Beside her, Rowan stifled a laugh, his hand brushing against hers in approval. Remelle spluttered in indignation and stepped back slightly.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” she hissed, looking at Rowan as if she was expecting him to leap to her defence.

“I’m his girlfriend. Now, if you don’t back off I will actually go and find a bone saw and get to cutting.”

Remelle huffed in shock and offence, turned on her heel and flounced away. Aelin watched her until she had turned the corner.

“Everyone will know now,” she sighed, turning to look at Rowan.

“Would it be wrong to say that you being jealous and violent was a turn on?” he asked with a grin.

“Very,” she replied with a straight face before bursting into laughter. “It’s okay, when you beat the shit out of Arobynn I thought I was going to jump you there and then.”

Rowan’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Hmm but you didn’t,” he said.

“I can remedy that later,” she teased.

People were staring at them but she didn’t really care. The secret was officially out, might as well give them something to talk about. She tilted her head up and placed a chaste kiss on Rowan’s lips. She wasn’t going to fully make out with him on the hospital floor, obviously. That would have been beyond inappropriate. But that small kiss told everyone who was watching that he was hers.

“No more threatening the nurses, though. I do want to have a surgical team to work with still.” Rowan teased, pinching her hip lightly.

“No promises.”

“Speaking of going out after work, though,” Rowan began, “I still haven’t taken you on a proper date. Are you free after work tomorrow?”

Aelin nodded enthusiastically. She loved dates, always had. Even after Sam, when she hadn’t been at all invested in the people she was dating, she loved the feeling of getting dressed up and going somewhere nice with someone who was there purely for her.

“I’ve got surgery now. I’ll see you after work, though. You’re staying at mine tonight, right?” she asked.

“Yeah, have fun,” Rowan replied, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.

Her cheek burned with the feel of his lips for a fair while afterwards.

Aelin was late. Surgery had run over and then she’d gotten distracted in the locker room by a hushed conversation Manon and Dorian were trying to have (something about handcuffs; she’d stopped listening after that). She hurried through the halls, stopping briefly to check her reflection in the glass double doors that led out of the ward. Rowan had told her to dress casually, so she’d thrown on a pair of flared black jeans and a green velvet crop top with a soft green cardigan over the top, and the chunky black platform boots that Aedion loved to call her butch boots.

“Sorry, sorry I’m late,” she panted, skidding to a stop in front of Rowan and trying to get her breath back.

“13 minutes late, unacceptable. The date is cancelled now, sorry,” Rowan teased, taking her hand in his own and giving her a tug towards the doors.

“Where are we going then, if the date is cancelled?” she asked.

“On a shittier date; you forfeited the good date.”

“Ah, so Mcdonald’s drive thru?”

“Don’t tempt me.”

Rowan pulled his car keys from his pocket as they crossed the parking lot and let go of her hand so they could climb into the car.

“You look gorgeous enough for me to forgive the lateness, by the way,” Rowan told her as she fastened her seatbelt.

“Gorgeous enough for you to tell me where we’re going?” she asked batting eyelashes.

“I’m not telling you where we’re going.”

Aelin huffed slightly and pouted at him, he reached out a hand and flicked her gently on the nose.

“Patience is a virtue.” he said.

“So is chastity. Maybe I should start abstaining.”

City lights flickered around the car as Rowan drove them into a slightly seedier part of town and pulled up next to a twenty-four hour gym.

“You’d tell me if you were going to murder me, right?” Aelin laughed, taking in the peeling paint and the sign that read Ha ‘s Gym. It may have been missing an L. Whoever Hal was, he clearly wasn’t into renovations.

“Obviously not, what kind of murderer tells you they’re going to murder you?” Rowan asked, killing the engine and climbing out of the car.

“The kind that loves you?”

“I promise I have not brought you here to murder you,” Rowan replied, grabbing her hand, locking the car doors, and pulling her towards the neon light of the gym.

“That’s exactly what a murderer would say,” she muttered, allowing herself to be dragged into the building.

Rowan nodded at the bored looking receptionist who waved them in with barely a glance, handed Rowan a key and then went back to painting her nails hot pink. He pulled Aelin past the main gym and the locker rooms and unlocked the door to an empty private room.

“If you’re going to murder me, you should put down plastic wrap first.”

Rowan laughed softly and walked over to a cupboard in the corner of the room. He pointed to a heavy target on the wall and pulled out what looked like a box of knives from her cupboard. Maybe he was going to murder her after all.

“You need a new hobby,” he said bluntly, holding out a knife for her to take.

“What’s wrong with my current hobby?” Aelin pouted slightly, but took the knife from his outstretched hand.

“Aelin,” Rowan sighed. “If you keep the kickboxing up, you’re going to break a finger, which wouldn’t really be that great for a surgeon, would it?”

He might have had a point. Aelin loved kickboxing; it was the only thing she had left of Sam. But maybe it was time to let go, find a hobby that wasn’t going to ruin her career one day.

“Okay, fine. Show me,” she relented.

Rowan stalked over to her, placing his hands gently on her hips and nudging her feet apart with his foot. “Okay, stance first…”

Rowan was a very precise taskmaster; it reminded her of when they had first started working together and he wouldn’t drop something until she had done it exactly right. They had started off simply with how to stand, how to hold the knife, all easy peasy. Aelin was getting restless, wanting to move onto the more advanced techniques.

“Come on, just show me something cool,” she pouted, swiping at him with her knife with no real intention of hitting him.

He jumped nimbly out of the way, smirking at her infuriatingly.

“Basics first,” he replied coolly. “Show me your stance.”

“At least with kickboxing I get to hit people. A target doesn’t bleed when you punch it in the face.”

“You are a doctor; I’m concerned that you want to make people bleed.”

“I don’t want to make people bleed. I just want the option of making them bleed.”

Rowan looked at her expectantly. She sighed and moved her feet into the position he had shown her, holding her knife loosely. Rowan came to stand behind her, his breath hot on the back of her neck.

“Okay, eyes on the target,” he instructed. “Picture the knife hitting the target before you release it, keep your wrist loose.”

Aelin breathed in the scent of Rowan surrounding her. She didn’t think she’d ever get used to this. To them. How right it felt for him to be hers. She eyed the target, imagined Remelle’s face, imagined the knife hitting her right on her perfect nose.

“Good.” Rowan breathed, “Now draw your arm back and let the knife fly, you don’t need as much power behind it as you think.”

She took a breath in through her mouth and out through her nose and threw the knife. It landed right between where she’d imagined Remelle’s eyes.

“Not bad at all,” Rowan appraised, going to collect the knife.

“I think you mean, ‘Wow, my girlfriend really is good at everything.’”

Rowan walked back over to her, placing his free hand on her hip.

“Wow, my girlfriend really is good at everything,” he grinned. “Except for staying out of trouble, and not being jealous of the nurses, and wearing appropriate clothing to bed.”

“You don’t really want me to wear appropriate clothing to bed.”

“I’d rather you wore no clothing at all to bed.”

Aelin raised an eyebrow at him and looked towards the door.

“Are there cameras in here?” she asked innocently.

“You really think a gym that can’t afford to replace the L in Hal can afford cameras?”

“Lock the door.”

Rowan did as he was told with a shit eating grin on his face.

“New game,” Aelin told him. “Strip knife throwing. You hit the bullseye; I take off an item of clothing. I hit the bullseye; you take off an item of clothing.”

“I feel like I have an advantage here.” he said, choosing a knife and testing the weight of it in his hand.

“Well then, I’ll be naked very quickly, and you shouldn’t complain, should you?”

Rowan kept his eyes on her and threw the knife without even looking. It hit the target right in the center. Aelin swallowed. Gods help her, that was hot.

“How the fuck did you just do that?” she asked incredulously.

“Years and years of practice.”

Aelin considered taking off her boots as her item of clothing but the floor looked dirty and she wasn’t exactly attached to staying fully clothed, not when Rowan looked like he did with a knife in his hand. She kept her eyes on him and reached for the hem of her top, pulling it over her head and leaving her in her jeans and blue lacy bralette.

Rowan said nothing, just nodded his head towards the target. She pictured the knife hitting the centre, just as he had told her and threw. It landed close to the middle, but not close enough. She sighed.

“I think that was close enough.” Rowan pulled his shirt off quickly, before she could tell him not to coddle her, and then once his shirt was off she forgot why she was going to complain in the first place.

“Your turn.” she said softly, admiring the hard panes of his stomach.

He hit the bullseye. Obviously. Aelin unbuttoned her jeans and pulled them off, struggling to get them over her ankles without taking off her boots.

“Hot,” Rowan said dryly as she wobbled on one leg but when she managed to get them off and she was left in her bra, thong, and boots, he looked as if he had meant it.

“Help me?” she asked, batting her eyelashes at him in a mockery of the helpless damsels in distress she always saw on TV.

Rowan stepped towards her, pressing his chest against her back, placing one hand on her hip and covering her throwing hand with his own. He guided her arm back as his other hand traced aimless circles on her bare hip. Her breath got stuck in her throat.

“Don’t try and throw the knife, it’s more like you want to guide it.” he said, lips brushing her ear.

She nodded and let him guide her hand.

“Okay let go when I say… Now”

The knife soared through the air and landed slap-bang in the middle of the target. Aelin turned to him and smirked. He too skipped taking off his shoes and went straight to the button on his jeans. Aelin watched in appreciation as he pulled them off.

She tilted her head and looked at him, beckoning him towards her with a crooked finger. He stalked forward, a predatory glint in his eye.

“I think I’ve had enough of knife throwing,” she told him.

“Hmmm, your attention span needs as much work as your throwing, I think.”

“If you’re going to be fucking rude I can put my clothes back on,” Aelin replied with no bite to her words. “And then I’ll kick your ass for good measure.”

“I could be into you kicking my ass, I think, but I’d rather you took the rest off.” Rowan crowded her against the cold grey wall of the small room.

“How about you take them off for me?” she breathed.

Rowan needed no further encouragement.

When they left the gym some time later, Aelin realised her top was on back-to-front. The receptionist looked up from her magazine, took in Aelin’s flushed cheeks, messy hair and backwards top and giggled under her breath.

“So, McDonald’s now?” Aelin joked as they exited the gym and stepped out into the chilled night air.

“Believe it or not, the next part of this date is even better than Mcdonald’s.”

“There’s a next part?”

Rowan looked at her with an expression that said _obviously_. “You seriously think I’d just take you to a gym on our first date?” he asked, opening the car door for her.

“I had fun at the gym. If I’m remembering correctly, you did too.” She eyed the fresh marks on his throat.

“Oh I did.” he replied, starting the car “but you deserve better than just that.”

“So part two is better?”

“Part one was fun, part two is romantic.”

“Romantic?” Aelin asked with a smile. “Who are you and what have you done with Rowan Whitethorn.”

“Maybe I’m only saying it’s romantic to lull you into a false sense of security and I’m really taking you into the woods to murder you.”

“That’s more like the Rowan I know and love.”

Rowan smiled, and Aelin felt as if the whole world was bathed in the glow.


End file.
